Fallen
by ScatterSunshine50
Summary: A continuation of the story if the institute van had arrived on time, and how much different things would have been if everyone had been given a chance to evaluate their lives and relationships from a different perspective.
1. Chapter 1

AN: Hello! It's been a while, but I'm glad to finally be posting something after a very long hiatus. I've been working on 3-4 stories at the same time, so it's been rather slow for me lately. That, and I'm just plain slow. This is a continuation of the story if the institute van had showed up on time. Say it arrives after Edgar says "She offered me everything," and right before Thomas is about to kill him. I'm not trying to be modest or anything; please don't take this story too seriously. It's more of an excuse to have another Bat Boy story in the archive than anything else. Even so, if you're even somewhat entertained, feel free to check out my profile page for updates on how far I'm coming along with the next chapter, or if you just like hearing me rant.

Disclaimer: I do not own Bat Boy or any of its characters. I do, however, own my own original characters. And beware, there are OCs. 0_0 Read at your own risk.

Chapter 1

"Get him sheriff! Shoot him! Take him down!" There was a moment of confusion as the man from the institute tackled Edgar to the ground, securing him with a rope loop at the end of a long pole. The sheriff used this window of opportunity to lunge forward, twisting Edgar's hands behind his back and expertly fastening them to a pair of handcuffs.

"No!"he shouted, thrashing wildly, "Coward! Do it now!" But Dr. Parker could only stand and watch as they dragged him into the van. Edgar thought he could hear Shelley's voice from somewhere in the crowd, but the noise was too loud for him to be sure. The rope cut into his neck, leaving red, painful scars, but still he resisted them, thrashing wildly about, glaring hatefully into his father's wide eyes.

The institute man finally succeeded in getting Edgar into the van. With one last persistent shove, the van doors closed shut and locked themselves. The sheriff was still inside, holding Edgar's arms together so he could not twist around so easily.

"Tie him up, and watch out for his teeth,"the sheriff instructed, then turning to Edgar, shouted,"Edgar! Calm down! You're safe now!"

"Get away!"he shouted, scaring the man with the rope back by violently trying to bite him.

"Hey!"the sheriff warned, pulling out his gun, "I'm warning you! If you don't cooperate I may have no choice but to use this."

"Do it, then! You'll be doing me a favor!"

"Edgar, listen! It doesn't have to be like this!"

"Sheriff,"the man interrupted, "I need to know if you're coming with us or not."

"Yes, I'm comin',"he replied. The driver heard this and suddenly the van lurched forward, leaving the town behind it.

"Shoot, sheriff,"Edgar said in a low voice, "But take me back first so he can see it."

"Nobody's dyin' today, Edgar."

"I took two innocent lives. I can kill more. I'm too dangerous to be allowed to live." The institute man looked worried. He had finally managed to strap Edgar's legs down to the chains on the wall of the van, but he looked warily at them now, as if he didn't trust their strength.

"He's just bluffin',"the sheriff assured him.

"You're wrong!"Edgar interjected, "I'm dangerous!"

"Yes, you are. But Edgar, I don't think you wanna be."

"Sheriff, do you want me to tranquilize him?"the man asked, looking worried.

"No, that won't be necessary,"he said without looking at him, "But have it ready."

"Shoot sheriff! Give them what they want!"

"I aint throwin' away your life for their sake, Edgar!"

"LOOK AT ME! Look at what I am!"he screamed, tears running down his face.

"Edgar, I'm sorry it turned out like this, but there aint nothin' you can do 'bout it! Meredith loved yuh enough to take yuh back, didn't she? And Dr. Parker, he said yuh were like part of the family. And what about Shelley?" Edgar was quiet, breathing deep, labored breaths, his bloody chest expanding uncontrollably with every pant. It took a moment for the sheriff to realize he was sobbing.

"Yuh didn't know she was your sister, did yuh?"

"Please,"Edgar whispered, slowly lifting his head up to reveal his tear-streaked face, "Please, I-I can't live without her."

"I'm sorry. You're going to have to learn how to where you're going...maybe that's what's best." Edgar fell silent. For a second, all that was heard was the engine running. Then finally Edgar slowly raised his head, his expression firm and decisive.

"If you won't put me out of my misery, I'll do it myself." Immediately, the sheriff jumped into action.

"He's going to bite himself!"he shouted to the man. His waiting needle plunged into Edgar's skin just as his teeth began to sink into his forearm. Two large drops of blood pooled up from the piercings Edgar's fangs had made, but he was unable to do anything about it. His limbs had suddenly frozen; his eyes glazed over, unthinking and uncomprehending. He felt the sheriff's pitying gaze on him as the institute man's needle slowly pull out. And then, very suddenly, everything went black.

l l l l

The town's uproar drowned out any hope of Shelley being able to hear her mother calling out to her. She turned wildly on the spot, trying to find some break in the crowd. Suddenly she felt a hand reach out and grab her forearm, pulling her out. When she had squeezed out of the hubbub, she found it was her mother who had pulled her out.

"Shelley, come on!"she shouted over the noise, pulling her forward.

"Mom, where are they taking him?"she asked, running with her.

"I don't know, Shelley,"she answered as the noise from the town faded away.

They reached the house before the sun came up. Meredith opened the door and flipped on the lights, looking around. The house felt abnormally quiet.

"Go empty all the boxes in the attic and start packing. I don't care what's in them. I have to start making some phone calls,"Meredith instructed. Shelley stared apprehensively at her mother, waiting for her to say something else, then quietly went to do as she said. Meredith waited until Shelley was out of sight, took in a deep breath, and picked up the phone, her hands trembling. On the second ring, she had to hang up. Sinking down on the couch, she let the tears freely fall, out of sight of anyone who would have otherwise been fooled to know how weak and scared she really was right now.

The clatter and noise Shelley was making seemed to bring her to her senses. Taking in another deep breath, she reached again for the phone, her hands still trembling but her ears straining to listen to the proof and reason for her being alive in the first place: Shelley. Like so many times when she didn't know how she would survive, it was knowing that Shelley needed her that kept her going and kept her from going crazy, even when she knew that she had another child that needed her just as much.

The connection went all the way through, and she was surprised by how steady her voice was, how calm she could pretend to be even though her entire world was in havoc.

"Hello?"the voice on the other end asked. Meredith swallowed, fighting back tears.

"Hi. It's...Cousin Mere,"she said softly into the phone.

"Mere? Your voice sounds funny. Are you okay?" Meredith closed her eyes, trying to calm down.

"No,"she replied quietly, "I have a favor to ask of you..."

l l l l

The worst was over, Meredith thought to herself as she finally put the phone down. Somehow, in a way she couldn't explain, the calm and silence was distracting. She couldn't seem to concentrate on packing; her thoughts kept drifting back to what had just happened. In fact, she was so absorbed in her thoughts, she barely heard the knock on her door. When she did, she froze, staring at the front door as if she was waiting for a bomb somewhere nearby to explode.

"Meredith, it's the sheriff,"a voice called from the other side of the door, "I need to talk to yuh." Meredith relaxed and hurried to open the door. The sheriff stepped inside, checking over his shoulder to make sure he hadn't been followed.

"That was a nightmare mess to clean up,"he sighed, taking off his hat, "Took me nearly an hour to calm everyone down, and another to make 'em all go home."

"Sheriff, where did they take Edgar?"Meredith asked hurredly. She knew she must look and sound a bit mad right now, but she didn't care. All she cared about was knowing that her son was safe.

The sheriff sighed, rubbing his face.

"The institute, I reckon. He'll be safe, there, at least. Well...safer."

"What will they do to him?"she asked fearfully, "They won't hurt him, will they?"

"Honestly, Meredith, I dunno. I've never seen a case like this,"he said, scratching his head, "The institute's kinda a funny place. We lock up all the real crazies there - at least, that's what I've heard. Never hear very many follow-up stories, though. Most people either just aren't ever let out or just can't be, cuz they're too dangerous to be around people."

"Sheriff, I know at this point it's a long shot to try to convince you otherwise, but I'm absolutely certain that"-

"Meredith, I'm sorry. He's improved far beyond my expectations, and he seemed like a real nice, intelligent boy, but I saw him attack Rick with my own eyes. Even if I could brush it off as self-defense, I can't ignore the trouble he's caused for this town. I saw him eating Ned's cow. That wasn't an accident, Meredith."

"That was my fault,"she said quickly, "I had just told him that I was his mother. He was angry with me; he wasn't thinking. I think he wanted to invoke the town's anger on purpose that one time. But I swear, Sheriff, he hadn't touched their cows once since he came here."

"Gosh, Meredith, I've always tried to be an open-minded guy, but...I dunno, I can't be stretched that thin without underminin' my authority as an officer. Four people died tonight. I can't let that go unpunished."

"Four?"Meredith asked. The sheriff looked down, suddenly uncomfortable.

"Uh...well, Mrs. Taylor went and threw herself in the river a little bit over an hour ago. Daisy's already stepped forward and told me that the very last words she spoke was, 'I can't stand goin' on while that thing is still alive.' Then she just disappeared. We were lookin' for her body for so long, otherwise I would have come sooner." Meredith sank down into a chair, her knees suddenly weak. Mrs. Taylor, Ron, Rick, and Ruthie...dead in one night? The sheriff took a step forward, gently placing a hand on Meredith's shoulder.

"Meredith, I really feel for you, but there's nothing I can do right now. A lot of people were hurt tonight, and I can promise everyone right now has that exact attitude Mrs. Taylor showed. I do have hope for him, Meredith. I think anybody who can improve as quickly as he did is more than capable of change. But I can't turn my back on my town for his sake. At least not publically...Do yuh understand?"he asked softly. She nodded silently, one lone tear slipping down her cheek.

"Could you do me a favor?"she asked softly, "Find me a phone number or an address, just anything I can use to make sure he's okay?"

"I can do yuh one better. I can give you that and a testimonial from the sheriff of Hope Falls that the boy is more than capable of rehabiliation,"he said, gently patting her shoulder.

"Will they really care?"she asked quietly.

"Maybe, if we bug 'em enough,"he said, smiling weakly.

"Thank you, Sheriff,"Meredith said, sighing tiredly.

"It's the least I can do for all the trouble we've caused your family, Meredith,"he said, glancing around at all the boxes in the room, "When do yuh reckon' you'll be headin' out?"

"Tomorrow. We're going to stay with my cousins in Wheeling for a while, until I find a place for Shelley and I to stay."

"Is Dr. Parker..."

"He's not coming,"she said simply.

"I see...,"he said quietly, "Has he come back yet?"

"Not yet,"she said, standing.

"Didn't see him in all the commotion. Don't know where he went off to...,"he said, "Does Shelley know?"

"I think she can guess as much."

"Mind if I see her before I go? Might set her a little at ease, after everything that's happened."

"I think that would be a good idea...,"she said, "Shelley! Shelley, come down for a minute!"

Shelley emerged from the top of the stairs a few moments later, looking cautious and hesitant and then alert when she saw who it was.

"Is Edgar okay? Where is he? Where did they take him? What happened?"she asked hurredly, running down the stairs to meet the sheriff.

"Now calm down, Shelley. I rode with 'em to the institute to make sure he got there safely. He's fine. He's probably gonna be knocked out for a day or two. Had to sedate him on the way."

"What?"she shouted, panicking.

"It was just precautionary, nothin' to worry 'bout,"he said, faking a smile.

"Did he say anything?"she pushed him. The sheriff scratched his head nervously, chancing a glance at Meredith, who met his glance.

"Knocked him out before he could say much,"he lied, "Couldn't hear much of anything over all the hollerin' outside."

"But what will they do with him?"

"Don't you worry, Shelley. The institute isn't a torture chamber. More like a prison."

"A prison?"Shelley repeated, clearly not the slightest bit reassured.

"I seriously doubt they'd do anythin' to hurt him, that's all I'm sayin', "glancing hopefully at Meredith.

"Mom, we have to go see him! He's probably scared and alone!"Shelley shouted earnestly, turning to her mother for help.

"I'm afraid there's not much yuh can do right now, Shelley. Even if he wasn't dead asleep right now, I don't think they take to visitors very nicely."

"Well then how are we supposed to get him out of there?"she asked.

"Just give it a couple days. I'll call and ask what the situation looks like once everythin's calmed down a bit, and we can go from there."

"But I can't wait that long! I can't just sit around and wait for him to die,"she exclaimed, again turning to her mother, "Mom, _say_ something!"

"I think...we should do as the sheriff says, sweetheart,"she said softly. Shelley stared at her mother incredulously, clearly offended by her mother's blatant betrayal.

"Look, Shelley, all your mother and I are tryin' to say is that a lot of things happened last night that only happened because people were riled up in the heat of the moment. I just think, for everyone's sakes, it would be best to take a step back and calm down, then we can reevaluate and see what we need to do."

"But I know what to do!"Shelley argued, even as tears brimmed her eyes, "I need to go save him!"

"Now, come now, Shelley, look at yourself. You're in no condition to be savin' anybody."

"I'm fine, I'm fine! Please!"she shouted, looking desperately at her mother for help.

"Shelley, stop it,"her mother said quietly, "We'll call tomorrow. They're not going to do anything to him tonight, and he's not going to be awake long enough to realize what's going on. There's nothing we can do."

"But...I can't do that!"she said, tears rolling down her cheeks, "I can't just sit around! I love him!"

"I love him, too, Shelley, but this is out of our control at this point."

"You do NOT love him, and it is too in our control!"

"Shelley! What's wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with me?"she repeated, "You're seriously asking me that? What's wrong with you?"

"Watch your tongue, young lady, or I'll"-

"Ladies!"The sheriff shouted, getting in between them, "Calm down! Don't yuh see this is why yuh can't go rushing into action? You need to calm down!" Shelley glared furiously at her mother, her clenched fists shaking with rage. Suddenly she bolted, running as fast as she could away from her mother, away from the sheriff, away from having to talk about any of it.

"I'm really sorry, Sheriff,"Meredith said quietly when she was gone.

"Don't apologize,"he said, shaking his head, "I better be headin' off anyway. I got a lot of people to visit today. I'll get you that number as soon as I get back to the station. And let me know when you're thinkin' of settin' off - I'd like to see yuh before yuh go." Meredith nodded slowly, leading him to the door.

"Sheriff? Did Edgar say anything when you were with him?"she asked seriously. Sheriff Reynolds sighed, hesitating a moment.

"I'll tell yuh when y'all leave,"he said quietly, then quickly left before Meredith had time to push it.

l l l l

It was late at night when Meredith finally had mustered up the courage to face her daughter. She had spent the whole day bracing herself for the inevitable, and now she was ready. She stood outside Shelley's room for a while, her hand hovering over the door, ready to knock. She had to do it. She couldn't expect Shelley to come to her, not after what she had done to her.

"You can't just ignore her like you ignore Thomas,"she thought to herself, "You have to do it." She heaved in a deep breath, having made up her mind, and knocked twice.

"Shelley,"Meredith said softly, announcing her presence as she entered Shelley's room, "I think we need to talk."

"No, we don't,"Shelly replied coldly, not looking at her as she folded her clothes and placed them neatly in the suitcase. Meredith shut the door behind her and came over to the bed. Her daughter was still packing - her entire room looked bare and empty, devoid of the usual decorations and posters on her walls.

"Shelley, I'm so sorry,"she began softly.

"I said I don't want to talk."

"We're going to get him out of there, sweetheart. Don't worry,"she said, "I didn't mean to sound like I didn't want to help him, Shelley. After we get out of here, we're going to do everything we can to bring him back home."

"Always the least priority to you, wasn't he?"she mumbled, loud enough that she could hear but not loud enough that Meredith could really tell if she meant for her to hear her.

"Shelley...I know you're upset. And I know you of all people have reason to hate me..."

"I think we both know who has more reason to hate you,"she answered coldly.

"And I won't blame if he does. I never meant for it to happen like this, Shelley. I never meant for him to suffer like he is now."

"Didn't you?"she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she shoved a pile of folded shirts a little too forcefully into the suitcase.

"Shelley, if there was one thing I could redo, you know it would be that. I didn't think. We were scared, that's all. You don't think I haven't thought about him every day, wondering how much different our lives might be if he was there to grow up alongside you? I'm not going to let him go that easily." Shelley tried to ignore her and keep packing, as if this alone would make her mother leave. But instead, to her annoyance, her mother waited patiently for her, waited until her eyes were brimming with tears, until she had to wipe her eye to avoid letting her makeup run on her clothes.

"Tell me why you're crying, sweetheart,"she said gently. Shelley dropped a stack of photos on her bed, her hands clenching into fists.

"Because it's not fair,"she said, her voice tight and restrained as tears brimmed her eyes.

"Shelley, you don't understand"-

"No!"she interrupted, so loudly it surprised them both, "I don't understand, and I never will! I don't understand how anyone could do what you did to Edgar! I don't get how anybody could hate someone like him! I don't get how the entire town could hate him! Even the person he looked up to as his own mother hated him! It doesn't make sense to me! He's the most amazing person I've ever met! How is that not obvious to everyone - how wasn't that obvious to you?"

"Shelley, calm down,"she answered, trying to calm her down, "He was just an infant. Not everyone can feel the same about people the way you do. You can't blame yourself for what everyone else thinks of him. Remember, you didn't like him at first, either."

"But I changed! I saw him change! I love him now!"she shouted.

"I do too, Shelley,"she said gently.

"Then how could you DO that?"she screamed, pulling at her hair as she began pacing the room, "How could you abandon him like that? How can you even say that you love him and be able to want him dead? I could have had the most amazing brother in the world, and I didn't even get to meet him until...this!"

"Shelley, people change,"she said tightly, but her voice was weak as her daughter continued to throw accusations over her head.

"Well, you sure didn't believe that sixteen years ago!"

"I don't know what you want me to say, Shelley. You're right, I didn't, and I'm sorry."

"Sorry doesn't change what you tried to do to him!"she shouted, "It's so hypocritical! You didn't want me any more than you wanted Edgar! You only kept me to kill your guilt! What was I, some consolation prize? Are you happy now that you got the _normal_ daughter you always wanted?" Meredith rose to her feet, staring her down.

"Now you listen to me, Shelley, I may have made a horrible mistake in hurting Edgar the way I did, but that does not mean you have the right to accuse me of doing the same to you. I was expecting you, and I was prepared for you. I didn't have anything, and I was ready to give up all that was left to make sure you had a happy life. You may have been an accident, but you were wanted, Shelley."

"Well it sure doesn't show!"she shouted. Meredith stared at her, feeling tears begin to well up within her. She moved to the door before her daughter could see them.

"Well, I'm sorry the last sixteen years of your life wasn't enough to convince you otherwise,"she said, looking back to see Shelley, glaring at her mother with a look she had never seen before. She shut the door and hid in her own, like a child afraid of the dark. It was a mother's worst nightmare: that hateful look, the biting tone. She may as well have told her she wished she had never been born.

She stood up and wiped her eyes, taking in a few shaky breaths until she calmed down.

"Be strong,"she told herself, "This is no time for weakness. If you're weak, who's going to hold this family together?" She emptied her mind and opened an empty box, once again firm and resolute: the perfect mother of a perfect family.

Meredith couldn't bear the quiet of the house, the dreadful silence that told her things weren't as they should be. Hours passed in that dreadful silence, and Meredith could do nothing about it but pack up the pieces and try with all her might not to think about it.

She was nearly finished packing up the bedroom when she heard a quiet knock on her door. She turned around, expecting to see Shelley, ready to talk again, and instead found Thomas standing under her doorway.

"How did you get in here?"she asked, backing away. Thomas tilted his head to the side, silhouetted by the soft glow of the hall light.

"I do have a key, you know,"he said quietly, shutting the door behind him, "In case you forgot, I live here, too."

"Well then, you can take my key, too. Shelley and I are leaving." Thomas stared at her blankly, slowly coming further into the room.

"Excuse me? Meredith, she's my daughter, too. You don't have any right to"-

"I don't have any right? You dare accuse me when you're the one who got us in this mess?"she interrupted, fuming mad.

"Okay, okay, calm down..."

"Get out. I'm not speaking to you."

"Meredith, what did I do wrong? Tell me. Tell me what I have to do to make you stay,"he pleaded softly, making sure to keep his voice down in case Shelley was listening.

"There's nothing you can do, Thomas - there's nothing anyone can do. This family's breaking apart as it is, and I don't need you around to hurt us even more than you already have."

"Meredith, I was trying to protect our family! I love you and Shelley more than anything in the world - you know that!"

"And what have you done to show it? Thrown my son, the person your daughter loved most, into an institute? What on earth were you trying to gain from doing such a thing, Thomas?"she asked.

"You, Meredith!"he said, holding her by the shoulders, "I was doing it for you! Everything I've ever done, I've done for you!"

"Then why would you do that?"she asked angrily, pushing him away, "Why would you call the institute and have them take away my child? Why would you frame him like that when you knew how much I loved him?..." Thomas stared at her, not knowing what to say for a moment.

"Because I love you more than you could ever love him,"he said finally, "Because I'm the one who made a vow to protect and support you however I could. I was protecting us, Meredith, because I love you."

"And you want me to believe that what you did to Shelley and I was out of love?"she asked, "Thomas, even you know that's not what it was. Anybody could see that I loved Edgar dearly. Why couldn't you?" Thomas was quiet for a long time. Finally he looked up at Meredith, his eyes sad and longing.

"Because...and at least when he was gone, you would at least look at me. At least before he came here, we could pretend you still loved me." Meredith stared at him, growing uncomfortable.

"Oh, Thomas...,"she sighed heavily, "Please don't."

"No,"he said, "I'm sick of avoiding the topic, Meredith. Why is it that the only time we were ever comfortable enough to be open about what happened was when we had an audience? I don't want to live like that, Meredith."

"There's nothing to talk about anymore,"she said softly.

"Then why are you still angry with me?"he asked, a pleading note of hysteria to his voice, "Meredith...I'm sorry. You know I never meant to hurt you. I thought you knew that."

"I do. I forgive you...,"she whispered softly, looking away.

"Then look me in the eye and say it."

"I forgive you,"she said simply, looking him in the eye. They stared at each other for a while, Thomas silently measuring the weight of her words.

"...But you still don't love me,"he finally said. She didn't know how to respond to this.

"Tell me why you did it,"she said quietly to avoid having to answer.

"Isn't it obvious?"he asked, "Because I hated him. Everytime I look at him I see you, Meredith. I can't bear even looking at him. He had your eyes..." Without being completely conscious of what he was doing, he slowly reached out and touched her cheek.

"Thomas, don't,"she said, gently pushing him away.

"No,"he said, coming back, "Look at me. Did you really think you could just pack up your bags and leave without talking? Are you that desperate to avoid this conversation? Meredith, please, we can get through this, we can"-

"Thomas,"Meredith interrupted, looking him straight in the eye, "I'm asking you to please leave. I promise, I'm just as through with avoiding talking as you are. I'm not saying never, I'm just saying not now."

"But...why not now?"he asked quietly, reaching for her arms, "I want to work this out with you, Meredith. Why not now?"

"Because I've already broken too many hearts for one day,"she said slowly, evenly. Thomas stared at her, digesting this as he slowly realized what it was she was really saying. Slowly he let his hands drop to his sides, his face falling.

"Is that...Are you..."

"Just...go. Please. You already know what I'm going to say, so just...don't make me have to hurt you, Thomas. Please don't make this harder for me..." The silence that followed only served to seep the guilt that she already felt. Maybe that was his intention.

"Okay,"he whispered softly, "Right then." Slowly he turned, standing awkwardly in the middle of the room for a moment before finally turning toward the door.

He turned back briefly to look at her. Her eyes were misted over with feigned indifference, trying not to betray herself to him. He waited for her to say something, hoping that she would have some hopeful, final words for him to leave with, to cling to as they transitioned into what he knew was going to be a difficult period for them both. He waited and waited, but it seemed she had nothing left to say to him.

With a soft goodbye, he shut the door behind him, and just like that, he was alone.

He walked to Shelley's room in a sort of daze, not really understanding where he was going. His body seemed to gravitate toward her door of its own free will. He pushed it open gently and found that the lights were off, and she was already fast asleep. Her walls were bare and naked - stripped of the memories and marks that had always imprinted her presence. It was like she was already gone, even though she was only an arm's reach away.

He approached her bed slowly, watching her quietly as she slept. He remembered watching her just like this when she was just born, sleeping soundly in her crib. He would sit for hours, marveling at the beautiful thing he and Meredith had created together, building up a chain of lies about how such a beautiful person could only have been born from a love just as innocent and beautiful as his perfect daughter was. He had built an entire life around his child, working hard everyday to support a family he believed just as hard supported him back, spending hours holding her, playing with her, just for the small chance of getting to make her laugh or see her do something cute. He had fashioned his entire life on making sure their child was consistantly loved and honored, making sure Shelley's life was free of pain so that maybe, just maybe, it would make up for the pain he had inflicted on Meredith.

Slowly he leaned down and gently kissed Shelley's hair, wishing there was something more he could give her. He stared, watching her for a moment longer, then quietly slipped out the door, down the stairs and out the front door. He didn't look back. He couldn't bear the thought of having his last memory of his home that of boxes without him packed away in any of them...

l l l l

AN: Poor Dr. Parker... I hope Hope Falls has a nice motel for him to sleep in tonight. :) If you can believe any of this would happen, good for you, because it gets more and more unrealistic the more you read. It's like a really corny fanfic from here on out. Oh wait...

I probably started this at a really bad time. I've pretty much written a dump draft already, but there's so much editing that needs to happen it takes me just as long as if I wrote it from scratch. I just started a full-time job, and I kind of hated this story from the get-go. I'm going to promise an update in two weeks, but don't get your hopes up, because I'm really lacking motivation for this story. I have a feeling this is going to explode on me by the third or fourth chapter. Maybe help prolong that explosion with a nice motivating review, por favor? :) Also, does anybody mind the longer chapters? I can break it up if it's a pain in the butt to read. These long author's notes probably aren't helping, either. I'll shut up now. :)


	2. Chapter 2

AN: I took a lot of creative liberties shedding some very artificial light on this mysterious "institute," and I promise 99.9% is me bluffing. As a side note, my internet is so spotty, I must have made the exact same editing marks at least three times. So sorry if there are mistakes, because by the third time, I kind of gave up.

* * *

><p>Chapter 2<p>

Edgar must have woken up at least three times before he finally actually opened his eyes. There was darkness everywhere, but Edgar could see that he was in a small room with a high ceiling, and that he was sitting on the floor, his wrists shackled. He tried to sit up and look around. There was a mattress next to him, a folded blanket and pillow on top of it, a bucket with a lid in the corner he could only assume was his bathroom, and a chair. Other than those few items, the room was dark and empty. There was a small window on the other side of the room, but so little light diffused through it, he couldn't be sure if it was night or day.

He rubbed his eyes and tried to stand up. It was then that he noticed that the shackles on his wrist were connected to long iron chains that were stuck in the wall behind him. They rattled noisily as he moved. He examined his wrists, wondering why they didn't hurt with the hard metal grating against them, and found that his wrists had been wrapped in protective bandages so they wouldn't bleed. The place he had bit himself was also bandaged.

Too tired to get up and see just how far his chains would let him move, he instead wrapped his knees close to him and laid his head down on his folded arms. Whatever drug they had given him hadn't seemed to wear off quite yet, and he found himself slipping back into a shallow sleep.

"Get up." There it was again. That voice had been calling him for a while now, but he had been too tired to hear it. He must have not been sleeping for very long.

"Wake up already." He wished the person would stop talking and leave him alone.

"I'm not saying it again. Get up, I've got more important things to do,"the voice persisted. Grudgingly Edgar slowly cracked his eyes open, peering listlessly around the room at his surroundings. A tall, elderly man stood a safe distance away from him, looking exasperated and holding a small plastic tub in his shrank back from the stranger.

"About time,"he grumbled as Edgar tried to sit up, "I'm Mr. Skaff, the warden." Edar finally managed to sit up, but he couldn't seem to remember if he had already looked around or not.

"Where am I?"he barely managed to mumble, his voice muddled and disoriented and his words slurred together. He looked up to see the warden cocking an eyebrow, as if he was genuinely surprised to know Edgar could speak English.

"The Institute of Wheeling,"the man responded indifferently, "You were delivered here to us yesterday morning and have been placed in a high security cell for safe keeping." Edgar stared blankly at him. The warden ignored his blank look and kept talking.

"Let's set something straight: There are two rules here that you need to be aware of,"he said, "Going out and trying to escape are absolutely forbidden. As you can see, we've already made precautionary efforts to make sure you are forced to follow those two simple rules. There is one door here that is kept locked at all times. There are patrol officers guarding the halls of this building 24/7 on the off-chance that you do manage to escape. There is one window - don't bother trying to crawl out of it. It's nailed shut, bulletproof, and just to humor you, we've put you on the tenth floor. And don't you dare try and repeat that little stunt you pulled in the van - all of our patients are on video surveillance. The second you try to do anything, I will be alerted and you will be stopped. If you break any of these rules, you will be punished. Do you understand?" His head was spinning, making him sluggish. It was all he could do to simply nod. It would take him nearly an hour to even think of looking around for these video cameras that were supposedly here, and even longer to connect the warden's being here conveniently the moment he woke up to those cameras watching his every move. Edgar closed his eyes, suddenly extremely dizzy. He took slow measured breaths, steadying himself.

"You should know, the people who are brought here are the ones that even the police department can't handle. They are society's most serious problems, and they are not taken lightly,"Mr. Skaff continued, "That being said, you will need to be evaluated to determine an appropriate level of security. I need to know the extent of how dangerous you are and if you are mentally stable. If you are not, this room is obviously too low security. You'll have to be moved." Though he didn't speak, Edgar wondered inwardly how chaining him to a wall could be considered low security.

"A psychiatric analyst will have to examine you. Since you are not permitted to leave this room, they will meet you here. He or she will meet with you everyday until they are able to make a clear and thorough report of your state. You are not permitted to have visitors until they give me a clear. Do you understand?"

"What if I don't want to be analyzed?"he asked slowly.

"You're not in a position to make free choices anymore,"he replied firmly,"You need to eat something first, though." Edgar leaned his head against the wall, letting his head droop a little. He looked fleetingly at the plastic bowl in Mr. Skaff's hand, knowing what was inside it. His head was clearing, and he realized what he needed to do. He stared at the bowl, trying to ignore the burning in his throat and instead trying to think of how much he desperately wanted to resist it.

"Later,"he mumbled incoherently.

"I don't think so,"he said, stone faced, "How often _do_ you eat?" Edgar turned away, looking at something on the other side of the room.

"Maybe once a month,"he lied, feeling his thirst intensify even as he said it.

"Oh,"he said, surprised, "We had no idea. Well, you could be lying...in any case, I didn't come all the way over here for nothing. I'm leaving this here. I'll make a call and have you meet them tomorrow morning." Edgar said nothing, just stared balefully at the wall as the warden put the container on the ground and kicked it to him.

"They'll meet with you at their own convenience,"he concluded, putting a hand on the door to leave, "And remember, you are under strict surveillance, so if anything goes wrong, we will not hesitate to step in and stop you."

Without waiting for an answer, he shut the door, leaving Edgar once again alone in the room.

He slowly laid down on on the floor, resting his cheek on the coldest area he could find. The cold floor felt comforting and familiar. Although the smell was entirely different, it reminded him of his cave, of his cold, damp bed of stone, and how he would curl up against the walls and listen to the sounds of peaceful emptiness. This was definitely not like home, though. This was hell.

He brought his knees up closer to him, trying to think but failing, and trying to ignore the container next to him. He looked away, staring fixedly at the wall.

He didn't realize he had fallen back asleep until he woke up screaming. His dreams had been filled with confusing, muddled images, but the sounds of screams and shouting filled his ears, growing increasingly louder and clearer as the last remnants of the drug left his system. An ear-splitting blast of gunfire ended it all with one loud crack, leaving him panting in a cold sweat.

Taking in deep breaths, he tried to calm down. He could finally think clearly now, and his first thing he realized was how utterly afraid he suddenly felt.

He realized immediately that even though he hadn't been completely sure what he was doing, he had been right to lie to the warden. He had no intention of staying here. He was going to finish what he had started back in the circle of that angry mob, and he knew he didn't have very much time to do it. He could bite himself right now, but the moment he would, he would be stopped...Fleetingly he wondered just how quickly he would be stopped, but he already knew the answer. Besides, he thought, he didn't have a good enough understanding of basic physiology to know where to bite himself that would make him bleed fast enough to die before they saved him.

His only other option had to be starvation. Perhaps just as fitting, he thought to himself. He needed blood immediately, and he would only last a few days, unlike most humans. Nobody would suspect he would die so quickly. He was probably already half-way there, he thought with twisted satisfaction. The only problems were the container sitting next to him, and the possibility that the warden would make a phone call and find out that he had been lying to him.

Without thinking, he kicked the tub away from him, sending it to the other side of the room where his restrictions would prevent him from ever reaching it. Immediately a sense of dread filled him as he realized the cameras were watching him. Was he sending them a message that he needed it? Would it be better to just pretend he wasn't hungry?

He wouldn't last, he thought bitterly. If there was anything he learned from all of this, it was that he was dangerous, and less capable of controlling himself than he thought he was. He could only pray that they would believe his lie.

The analyst was another problem...If she was coming tomorrow, that meant that his only chance of doing it was if he didn't last until morning. And if he wasn't dead by then, he would have to give in. Even chained, he was scared of himself, of what he could do to people. He didn't want another death to add to his bill. He would make sure he died before another person died by his own hands first.

Then the only thing to do was sit and wait to die. That was all he could do. He sat there, simply waiting in the dark while he tried to keep his mind focused on not looking at the bowl across the room. He had read books where characters died simply because they lost the will to live. If that was true, maybe he would be dead before night came. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to concentrate on not thinking about the blood, but more than anything, trying not to think of everything else. It was his only comfort right now.

He had come full circle, he thought. Once again, he was all alone, living in the cold and dark. Only this time, he knew that there was more to life than damp rock walls and darkness.

Though in reality, there really weren't.

He buried his head in his knees, trying not to think about it. If he started thinking about it, he would lose himself. But he couldn't help it. Regardless of if he thought about it or not, he could feel it; he could feel his loneliness crushing him. He had learned friendship. He had felt love for another person, and it had been returned. He had known the comforting touch of a woman he adored more than anything in the world. He had known the warm embrace of a mother who loved and cared for him. These things happened; they were real. He could pray to never feel these things again, but he did, none the less. He could wish as hard as he could, even die so he wouldn't have to live with it, but it wouldn't change how much he had lost.

He hugged his legs close to him as his first tear slipped silently down his cheek. His first release gone, he hugged himself tighter and allowed just a moment to let him cry for all he had lost and all he would never get back. The moment turned into hours, but even those hours couldn't seem to make up for the sixteen years of his life he had lost forever. In the long run, it wouldn't matter.

He would be dead by morning.

* * *

><p>There was no way Thomas was going to be able to sleep that night. He had taken the car and taken a drive, not realizing where he was going. He eventually stopped in an open field, having no idea where he was and if he was even in West Virginia any more. He shut the engine off and suddenly pounded the steering wheel hard with his fist, wincing as the reverberations shot up his arm.<p>

His mind was racing and he felt slightly sick. He kept thinking of Meredith, her eyes as distant and emotionless as he had been for the last sixteen years. He knew that look, and it scared him. He knew it because he saw it every day when he looked in the mirror. It was the look of someone who had given up trying.

He didn't understand. From the moment she ran away from him in the revival tent, he hadn't understood how it had turned out like this. The plan had been simple: make the boy so unforgivably dangerous, Meredith would have no choice but to choose what she thought was best for everyone. There was never a question that she would choose him over the boy. He may be her son, but Thomas was her husband, Shelley's father. If not her love, she owed him her allegiance.

Then why did she choose him? Why was that not obvious to her? Why, in the moment Thomas had announced his lie, did she turn away from him and defend that monster over him?

And how had he not anticipated she would do just that?

The town had reacted exactly how he had expected. They acted accordingly and gave him power to take their belief that the boy was dangerous and drive it further than even Thomas could have imagined. Killing the boy was not part of his plan, but he went along with it because he knew it would make the evidence plain and clear for Meredith. Even though Meredith was gone through half of it, he felt himself go mad with the idea that if he could convince the town so thoroughly that Edgar deserved to die, Meredith would too. Everything he ever did, he did wishing as hard as he could that his feelings would reach her.

They had done that their whole marriage, he thought to himself. From the moment he begged her to marry him, he had tried to force his feelings onto her so that she would eventually feel the same. Maybe he had gotten so tired of trying to make her love him that he wanted to try making her hate something else. So was this all his fault?

_No, it's all that freak's fault. All because he was born,_ he thought furiously, his hands shaking as he repeated this sentence over and over quietly to himself, willing himself to make it true by simply closing his eyes and repeating it. It had to be true. It simply had to be. Because if it wasn't, then all his efforts were for nothing.

He didn't know how long he sat there, knowing the truth, but trying to think of an explanation around it. Because the very idea that Meredith loved the abomination they had created more than the person who had spent more than half his life trying to make up for it was too much for him. There had to be some explanation, a hint that he hadn't picked up. He could have simply shocked her too much, or arrived at the wrong time to deliver the news. There had to be a reason...

He spent hours in that car, trying to come up with an explanation for she could treat him so coldly, choosing her son over him, defending Edgar in front of the entire town, kicking him out of his own house. But the more he wondered, the more he knew. Deep down, he had always known the truth; he had always simply been too stubborn to believe it.

She didn't love him.

This had to be only temporary, though. Tomorrow they'd unpack their things, he'd pat his daughter's head and promise her they would visit the boy if they could, and everything would go back to normal. She would be angry for a while, of course, but hadn't she seen the thought behind it all? She should have tried to talk to him. She should have tried to work this out. Couldn't she have given him some sign that she was willing to try something else?

Did she even want to work this out?

_I've already broken too many hearts for one day. _That was the only excuse she had given. What, was she about to tell him she didn't love him? Was that supposed to surprise him? He had left thinking she had meant that she was simply too emotionally exhausted to talk tonight, but...what if she meant something else?

He needed to talk to her. He needed to know exactly how all this had changed her feelings for him. Somehow, he had the feeling that something had gone wrong in his plan to win her back. His plan had worked; the boy was gone, and all there was left was Thomas. He had won...

...Hadn't he?

* * *

><p>Meredith was trying to rearrange the boxes to fit into their small car when the sheriff's cruiser pulled in.<p>

"Mornin',"he greeted her, "Yuh need help with that?"

"I'm alright, thank you,"she said with a sigh as she pulled out another box and reinserted a smaller one, "We'll probably be leaving soon. Shelley's saying goodbye to her friends. Once she gets back, I think we'll be heading off."

"Glad I caught yuh, then. I, uh, have somethin' for yuh. From Dr. Parker. He dropped in this mornin' at the station and asked me to give yuh this." He held up a folded sheet of paper, handing it to Meredith. She took it nonchalantly, taking only a second to read the single sentence written.

_"Meet me at the edge of the woods, at our spot."_

"Thank you,"she said without making a face, "Did he say anything when you saw him?"

"Not much. Looked exhausted, though,"he said, "Did he ever come back last night?"

"Eventually. I sent him away, though,"she said a little coldly.

"Aren't you worried about him at all?"

"I wasn't. I assumed he probably passed out drunk after everything,"she said without looking at him. He nodded.

"He sure seemed worried about yuh." Meredith didn't know what to say to this.

"Well...probably won't be seein' you and Shelley for a long time, I'll bet,"he said a little sadly.

"I'm sure we'll visit again someday, when things have quieted down,"she said, trying her best to smile reassuringly.

"Such a shame. She's a good girl. I'll miss her,"he said, "Y'all were. You folks were such a nice family." Meredith stared at him, a little taken back by the past tense. She quickly forced a weak smile.

"We'll always remember the kindness you've shown us, Sheriff. Thank you." She was surprised when he leaned in to hug her instead of shaking her hand. For some reason she felt moisture rise up in her eyes as the sheriff pulled away. He was the only person anchoring her right now, she realized. He may have well been the only normal thing about her life at all right now.

"Take care, Meredith,"he said, moving back toward the cruiser. Just like that, this was goodbye. Her first and only goodbye to this place, but somehow he was enough. Even still, she couldn't help the tear that slipped down her cheek as she watched him pull out and drive away.

* * *

><p>Shelley stood outside the house of her last visit, holding her breath until she couldn't hold it anymore. Saying goodbye sucked. Even though she truly was glad they were leaving, she couldn't deny she was leaving a lot behind. She had spent hours having one last real conversation with her closest friends, promising to keep in touch, all the while knowing deep down that she never wanted to remember this place again.<p>

Her mother had told her to take all the time she needed, but Shelley could only wish for all the time in the world. There was nothing worse than the awful feeling of knowing you were about to leave behind everything you knew, and not being able to do anything about it.

She knocked three times on the door and was answered by Morgan, one of her best friends.

"Shelley?"she asked, "Hey, what's up?" There was distance between them. There was distance between all her friends. None of them knew how to treat her. Shelley could practically feel the ice freeze between each and every friend she visited, but all of them simply tried to ignore it. They all knew what had happened. They all had heard that Shelley had defended the monster that had terrorized their town. Knowing how fast gossip traveled, they probably hadn't left out the fact that she had slept with said monster. To everyone, Shelley was a traitor and a slut.

"I'm leaving,"Shelley said with a weak smile, as if this was light-hearted news, "I wanted to say goodbye." Instantly the hostility melted away. The others had been the same: it seemed the only thing that could excuse Shelley from being chased out was a promise that she would go willingly.

"Oh my gosh, are you serious?"she asked, throwing her arms around her, "No, Shelley, you can't leave! Who am I going to gossip about boys with?"

"I know!"she said, hugging her tightly, "We'll have to call each other every day."

"Awww, I'll miss you, Shell!"she squealed, squeezing her tightly.

"I'll miss you, too, Morg." They released each other, giving each other forced puppy dog looks. It felt so fake, Shelley was eager to leave already.

"I was so scared for you, Shell! My dad told me everything that happened last night!" Shelley forced a weak smile. That certainly said a lot. Still, at least she was willing to talk about it. Most of her friends hadn't even gotten close. One had even slammed the door in her face. Only afterwards did Shelley remember she was Rick's cousin.

"Were you okay? I mean, you were living with that thing for how long?"she asked, looking extremely worried, "He didn't hurt you, did he?" Shelley tried to keep a straight face, but she felt her temper flare just slightly.

"Edgar? Are you kidding? He wouldn't hurt a fly. The whole thing was just a really big misunderstanding,"she said casually, as if she were talking about the weather.

"But...everyone saw him attack Rick,"she said with a laugh that made Shelley almost lose it, "I mean...I know he was kind of your pet, but I mean it is for the better that he's locked up if he's that dangerous, right?"

"Edgar's a person, not a dog." Now her anger was beginning to surface, and it made Morgan draw back a little, confused.

"Oh...yeah, of course. You know what I mean,"she said quickly, trying to look apologetic, "I'm sorry, Shelley. I'm sure they'll take good care of him, though. It's for the better, right?" Shelley stared at her, her expression not melting. She was starting to wish she would be like everybody else and just not bring it up.

"...Right,"she said tightly.

"Oh, Shelley,"she sighed, hugging her once more, "I'm so sorry. You must be so heartbroken about Rick." Shelley hugged her back slowly, not knowing what to say. What could she say? Of course she was sad about Rick dying. But the sadness she felt for him didn't even come close to the sadness she felt for losing Edgar.

"It's okay,"she said, releasing her and smiling reassuringly.

"Come on, Shell, I know you better than that. Are you going to be okay?" She shrugged, not knowing what to say.

"I guess it...hasn't really hit me yet,"she mumbled truthfully, shrugging, "I guess none of it will until everybody's gone."

"It all happened so fast,"she agreed, looking at her friend with a concerned expression, "I just can't believe he's gone. We've had the same classes with him for forever...And to be killed the way he was..." Again, Shelley didn't know how to respond. How was she supposed to tell her that she wasn't ashamed of Edgar or of what he did? How could she possibly comprehend how deeply she cared for Rick's killer?

"At least he's with his family now,"she said quietly. Her friend nodded, tears brimming her eyes.

"I cried so hard when I heard. Like, for hours. Poor Rick..." This surprised Shelley. She hadn't even come close to crying for Rick yet. Did that make her cold-hearted? Or had it really just not hit her yet? She hadn't really felt anything yet, she was so focused on getting out of there. Packing had helped give her something to do other than think about what had happened. What would happen when they finally settled down, and all there was left to do was sit and reflect?

"I'd better go,"she said, giving her friend one last hug. She cried just a little as she waved goodbye one last time, knowing, despite all the promises that they would keep in touch, that she really was starting over now. She felt the neighbors stares follow her home, keeping watch from their windows, waiting warily for the girl whose family had caused their entire society to unravel in one night to leave. She ignored them, her head pointed directly towards home. She was finished looking to see what shattered pieces had been left at all her friends' feet. It was time to pick up her own.

She had spent more time than she had anticipated, but her mother wasn't at the house when she finally got back, and the car was gone. She walked to the front porch. On the window there was a taped note that read _"I'll be back soon. Double check the house."_ She sighed. They had double, triple, quadruple checked to make sure they hadn't forgotten anything. Except for her father's things, there was nothing left.

Her father...

Shelley plopped down on the porch to wait. Talking about escaping to somewhere remote and private had seemed like a good joke at the time. Not including her father in the plan seemed like an even funnier idea. But to actually pack up everything except your own father was...weird.

She could have sworn she had heard his voice last night. She brought a knee up to her chest, resting her head broodingly on her knee cap. Crazy or not, she missed her father. She had never expected to do this without him. She wanted him there, to start over with them. They could be a normal family again somewhere else if they wanted. They could get Edgar out of the institute and everything would go back to the way it was.

Or at least...she wished it could.

It was another hour before Shelley finally saw her mother coming up the street.

"Where were you?"she demanded, looking annoyed. It wasn't as if the hour had passed pleasantly. Shelley had already packed away everything, and there was nothing to do but sit in the baking sun.

Meredith didn't respond for a while. Shelley got in the car, put on her seat belt.

"Got everything?"Meredith asked without looking at her. Her voice was unusually quiet.

"Where were you?"she asked again.

"...Saying goodbye,"she said quietly, starting the car without further explanation. Shelley was about to press her further, but the look on her mother's face told her otherwise. They pulled out slowly, Shelley glued to the window as she watched her house slowly disappear from view.

"Bye, house...,"she whispered quietly as the trees devoured her home from her field of vision. When there was no point looking back anymore, she sank back into the passenger seat, turned her head away, and pretended to look out the window as tears unexpectedly filled her eyes.

Meredith never once looked back.

* * *

><p>AN: Yes, you will get to see what went down with Meredith and Thomas next chapter. As a side note, Mr. Skaff is the name of my high school VP, if you were wondering where these random names come from. They kind of look alike. I came up with Morgan because a girl named Morgan saw me at Forever 21 today and didn't say high to me even though we had chemistry together in high school. Jerk. Now your name is in my story. Ha.<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

AN: Sorry for the delay, I was on vacation for a while. Hope nobody actually meant to tell me not to continue, because...I am.

* * *

><p>Chapter 3<p>

Thomas didn't know how long he had been sitting there in that field, waiting. Hours passed before he finally heard the grating of tires rolling on cobbled dirt. He kept his back turned to her as she walked slowly up to him, stopping just a few feet away and standing perfectly still, waiting.

"I almost thought you wouldn't come,"he finally said without turning, "Or that you didn't even know where I meant by "our spot."

"Our spot? You certainly romanticized this old junkyard."

"I proposed to you here,"he said, finally turning to look at her so she could see the slight twinge of hurt that had crossed his face.

"You proposed when you found out you knocked me up. You gave me a ring here, that's all,"she said, her face stone cold as she stared at him, devoid of any expression.

"Excuse me? Is that what you thought I was doing?"he asked, looking at her disbelievingly.

"Here,"she said without blinking, pulling off her ring and handing it to him, "You can take have it back."

"...What?"he asked disbelievingly. She shrugged indifferently, her cold, expressionless eyes meeting his

"I don't want it,"she said simply.

"You don't want it?"he repeated a little mockingly, "What on earth are you talking about?"

"I want a divorce."

Nothing in the world could have prepared him for that. Thomas stared blankly at her, unable to move, unable to even breathe. They stared at each other, both waiting for the other to say something, anything to ease the tension.

"You...want...No...,"he breathed, his face melting as the weight of her words came crashing down on him.

"I know why you asked me here, and I'm sorry I can't tell you what you want to hear. I only came to tell you goodbye, and to not try and find me. I don't want you near me or Shelley." She didn't wait for him to say something. Turning on her heel, she moved to leave.

"Meredith..." She didn't answer him.

"MEREDITH!" She wasn't even halfway to the car when Thomas stepped in front of her, blocking her path. Their eyes met and Meredith drew back, her false indifference finally faltering.

"For once in your life, will you please just LISTEN?"Thomas shouted, forcing her to take a step backward, "Why do you always do that? You just tune me out and pretend I'm not even there! Why? Why do my feelings NEVER matter to you?" Meredith stared at him, her eyes wide with shock. She stood perfectly still, unable to look at him.

"TELL ME! Why the hell did you marry me in the first place if you were just going to shut me out all the time?"he shouted, unrelenting, "How dare you come here and tell me you want a divorce after all I've done for you!" Maybe he was hurting her. Maybe he was saying things he shouldn't. But he had brought her here to talk as equals, and now she purposely was trying to bring him down beneath him. He wasn't about to let her walk over him and control his life.

"I was weak and scared and I thought I needed you,"she said, tilting her chin just a little higher, "That's all. I'm stronger now."

"So strong you can pack up your bags and run away from your problems like a child?" Meredith flushed, angry now.

"And what about you? You couldn't handle the fact that I loved my own son, so you locked him up? Who was acting childish then?"

"Wanting what's best for your family is not childish!"

"But it was never about our family, Thomas, it was all about you!"she shouted. Thomas glared at her, fuming now.

"You can be so hypocritical sometimes,"he said slowly, clenching his fists, "You call me selfish when you couldn't even put in the effort to be my wife. Do you know how much I gave up to make sure you were happy? Do you know how hard I worked to make you feel loved? You didn't even acknowledge I was there half the time." Meredith hesitated, unable to think of something to say quick enough before he spoke again.

"Do you know how angry I feel at you right now?"he asked, his hands gripping her arms, "I spent all of sixteen years trying to make everything I did up to you, and you turn your back on me and decide you love that monster I created on _accident_ more than the person I've _worked_ hard to be. I helped you raise Shelley, I gave you everything I had, I took care of that monster, just like you asked me to, and you know why? _Because I loved you._ Yes, that's right, I've loved you consistantly since the moment I met you, but in all this time, you couldn't even make the effort to pretend. Have some self-respect - you know I'm not the only one at fault here." Meredith glared down at the grass, quiet for a long time.

"I did try,"she said, "I tried my best."

"Trying your best, what does that even mean?"he asked with a half-hearted sarcastic laugh, "There's always something we could have done better."

"... Maybe _you_ feel like you could have done better,"she said slowly, glancing up at him, "But I gave my best effort." Thomas stared at her, stunned.

"Since when was my wife so cold-hearted?"he asked slowly, "Can you hear yourself? Have you even cared that for the the last month, you've barely even looked at me? Do you seriously consider that your best effort?"

"What does it matter? What do you want me to say? Maybe it's easier for you to try, Thomas. It's less effort for you - you don't have to act everyday of your life. You don't have to fake a smile and put on a show for Shelley. I'm sick of it, Thomas. I'm sick of pretending. We both know I don't love you anymore."

"There's a difference between love and being in love, Meredith,"he said seriously, "Love is a _choice!_ I'm fully aware you're not in love with me, Meredith - you've made that clear enough. You know I was always hoping for us to just fall back in love and everything would be exactly like it used to be, but it was always okay with me if you didn't, because I always hoped that loving you would spark something again. You're trying to tell me you don't love me at all, but I can't believe that. I can't believe that you don't love me at least a little, maybe not as a lover, but at least as your husband and Shelley's father. There had to have been a time where you loved me."

"Yes, there were moments,"she conceded, throwing up her hands in exasperation, "There will always be temporary exceptions. But moments aren't enough, Thomas."

"Why? Why is it not enough? What more can I do?"he asked, his voice carrying a hint of desparity. Meredith didn't answer for a while. Slowly Thomas could see her features softening somewhat as she lifted her head to meet his eyes.

"Nothing, Thomas,"she said honestly, "You've done everything you can do."

"...Then return the favor. Please, Meredith, I'm begging you." She took a step closer to the car, and this time Thomas let her.

"You know...,"she said softly, "I might have, if you had asked me before all this happened. But it's too late for that now. I have to be honest, Thomas, I hate you so much for what you did to Shelley and Edgar I don't think I could love you no matter how hard I tried." He would have been better off if she had just left him with "I want a divorce." Thomas stared at her, struck completely dumb. Meredith seemed to regret her forwardness, because he could see her face crumbling in guilt.

After a moment's pause she added, "It's not that I'm ungrateful, Thomas. But I am angry." He nodded absently, trying to shake off the shock.

He couldn't help the tearful tone in his voice, "I'm sorry..."

Meredith stared at him, his eyes pleading. She knew he meant it. But it didn't mean she could forgive him.

"We don't have to get a divorce, Meredith,"he continued slowly, shaking his head, "You won't feel this way forever." Meredith hung her head, emitting a deep sigh.

"I'm done with this, Thomas. I want to move on." Thomas slowly shook his head, his eyes wide.

"You agreed to marry me. Doesn't that mean anything to you?"

"Not if it means comprimising my children."

"He's not your responsibility, though. We gave him up. He's no more your son than he is mine."

"He is as long as I know he's alive,"she said tightly. Thomas' expression furrowed slightly, a flash of anger appearing on his face.

"You can be so hypocritical, you know that?" Meredith's eyes narrowed when he said this, fuming.

"I'd rather be a hypocrite then whatever breed of monster you are,"she answered, keeping her composure calm.

"And I'd rather be a monster than let an even bigger monster take you from me." They stared at each other coldly, neither saying anything.

"...Well then...,"Meredith finally said, breaking the silence, "I guess you got your wish." Slowly she turned, about to leave.

"Meredith, wait!"

"No,"she said simply, ignoring him.

"Meredith!" Again, he stopped her before she could reach the car.

"Shelley! Where are you taking Shelley?"

"As far away from you as possible,"she said without breaking her stride. He was forced to follow her as she headed back for the car.

"Hold on, you can't just take away my daughter like that"-

-"Move,"Meredith snapped, shoving him out of the way, "When we get an unlisted phone, she can call when she wants to."

"No, Meredith, don't"-he was cut off by the car door slamming, "This isn't the end, Meredith. You know it isn't. You're going to wake up one day and realize you missed me all along. You know Shelley still needs a father." Meredith ignored him, ramming the seat belt into the jack.

"You'll thank me someday for putting him away where he belongs!"he shouted as she reached the car, "Just wait! You know you need me! You'll come back!"

Meredith didn't respond. Thomas took a step forward, but decided to speak up and stop her a moment to late. She was already driving away.

* * *

><p>Edgar refused to sleep. He knew where his dreams were going to take him, and he didn't intend on revisiting that place any earlier until he was safe in hell where monsters like him belonged. The trade-off wasn't much better, though. By forcing himself not to sleep, he was choosing to live his nightmare on the outside. No matter how hard he tried not to, there really was nothing better to do in this small, dark room but sit and reflect on everything he didn't want to think about. He tried to think about only the good parts - that brief elation he had felt when the people in the congregation had accepted him, learning so much from Mrs. Parker, the loving sincerity in Shelley's eyes when she told him she loved him...<p>

...But then thinking about how wonderful it had all been only reminded him how fast it had all been taken away. Mrs. Parker's teachings had been for nothing, the town he had worked so hard to win over hated him so much they wished him dead, and Shelley...

Shelley was gone. His happiness had been too good to be true. Whatever anger he still felt had eventually melted away into a droning buzz of a reminder in the back of his thoughts, constantly reminding him of her absense. Anger had melted to rejection, which had hardened into pure bitterness. It seemed the only way he could comprehend why he had lost her was by simply accepting that he deserved everything that had happened to him.

He could barely open his eyes, but he managed to look up when a slot in the door opened and a plastic tub came sliding through the door to land by his foot. He cringed, knowing what it was.

They must have force-fed him when he was unconscious. There was no other way he could still be alive. He sighed tiredly, refusing to get up even though his insides were churning with such an intense thirst, the only thing keeping him from grabbing for the tub was sheer, utter exhaustion. He couldn't move, he was so weak.

What then? He presumed it was morning, because they hadn't fed him for so long that he presumed this was breakfast. The analyst could be coming either in five minutes or five hours. He couldn't continue to abstain himself forever. Even chained to the wall, he didn't trust himself to not hurt them. He had hurt enough people already to know how dangerous he was when he was hungry. He could simply wait and see, but instinctively he knew he wasn't going to die anytime soon. The fact that he could still think coherently was proof enough that he wasn't anywhere near as close as he wished he was. There was nothing he could do about it but curse whoever had thought to feed him and think of something else.

With some effort, he weakly brought a hand up to his mouth, considering. The action itself took so much effort that he didn't even bother raising it further.

"Too obvious,"he thought to himself, dropping his hand. If he did attack the analyst, would they kill him on the spot? he suddenly thought. Maybe that would free him from this place.

A slight tinge of regret pricked him as he realized what he was saying. He had killed two people already. His freedom, even into death, wasn't worth one more life.

He sat there, alone in the quiet, dark room, letting his defeat sink in slowly and surely until he finally mustered up the strength to pick up the container and surrender. There really wasn't any point in fighting it. He was an animal, after all. His only real inhibition now was that the security cameras were watching him, witnessing his grotesque nature.

For a brief moment his thoughts were drawn toward Shelley. He thought of her as she offered herself to him, completely unphased by the idea of him drinking blood. Would she feel the same now? Would she still be able to accept him without shame when they already had so much to ashamed of?

Feeling better when he had finished, Edgar sighed heavily and laid his head on his arms, his knees curled up close to him. His life was no longer his to control, it seemed, but he would find a way. He wanted justification. He wanted to let those who called him a monster to know that he agreed, and that he would happily die for a chance to be normal. He wanted Mrs. Parker to know that the life she had forced him to live wasn't worth living if Shelley wasn't in it. And deep down, in the deepest part of his heart that he refused to touch, he wanted Shelley to know she was loved and meant more to him than he would ever be allowed to tell her.

* * *

><p>Shelley leaned her head back, closing her eyes and letting the warm breeze sift through her hair. They had arrived at their cousin's house in Wheeling that morning, and already Shelley was being told not to get too comfortable. Apparently finding a three-bedroom house took planning. Her mother's brilliant escape plan wasn't sounding too brilliant anymore.<p>

Leaving felt like a surreal dream. She had never really digested the fact that they were leaving until she was here, sitting on the front porch of her cousin's house while her mother tried to figure out the rest of their lives. What was this going to mean for Edgar? What was this going to mean for her father? For them?

Poor Edgar. She couldn't even imagine what he was going through. She had called the institute already this morning, and a grumpy receptionist had picked up. All she knew about him was that he was "that young kid with the pointy ears," and that his file claimed he was stable. She wouldn't ask anybody for details or offer to call her back when they heard something. When her mother had called, they didn't pick up. Meredith didn't want to worry Shelley, but she knew they were screening their calls.

"Shelley?"Meredith popped her head outside. Shelley turned her head slightly to see who it was, then immediately turned it back, looking fixedly straight ahead.

"...How are you doing?"she asked quietly.

"Fine,"Shelley answered dryly, the contempt and bitterness she felt still easily apparent in her tone.

"I think I found a place. It's a little past Fairmont. It sounds very charming. Three bedrooms, just like we were planning..." She stopped, wondering if Shelley would react to this. When she didn't say anything, she relaxed.

"That's too far from him,"Shelley finally replied, her voice quiet.

"...He won't be there forever, dear. If we stay too close, we'll be close to home. And he'll be close to that awful place, once he gets out."

"I don't care how close or far away we are to home, just as long as we're not actually there,"she said. Meredith held her breath. She hadn't really been thinking about being close to Hope Falls as a real issue. She was thinking of Thomas, being able to find them more easily. But she hadn't thought of what she was going to tell Shelley yet, and she wasn't about to figure it out now.

"...Don't you want to start completely over?"she asked gently. She saw her daughter tense as she spoke.

"Not without him,"she snapped, her hands clenching. If Meredith noticed her tense, she didn't show it.

"We're going to get him out, Shelley. Don't worry,"she softly reassured her.

"I don't care. I still want to be close by."

"Shelley..."

"If you don't want to wait around, then go buy your stupid house. I'll just stay here." Meredith stared at her, shocked.

"What on earth are you talking about? Shelley, I'm not going to leave you here."

"Then why are you trying to not be near him?"she almost shouted, slamming her fist down on the porch steps.

"Why would I try not to be near him? Shelley, Fairmont's only two hours away; It's not that long."

"Yes it is!"she really shouted this time, "What would we do if they let us visit? Drive two hours here, two hours back, every day?"

"I don't think they would let us visit every _day_, dear...,"she said slowly.

"You don't know that!"she shouted, "I don't want to be too far away to help him, I want to be _right there_ when he needs me!" Meredith stared at her daughter for a while, a sense of understanding overcoming her as she lowered her head and sighed.

"Shelley, we're not going to abandon him." There was a pause as tears suddenly filled Shelley's eyes. She hated that her mother could see right through her. "_I'm _not going to abandon him." Shelley's entire world blurred as her tears threatened to spill. Everything was happening so fast and yet not fast enough. She needed to catch up, or something needed to slow down...

"Shelley!"Meredith called out in alarm as Shelley suddenly got up and bolted, running as fast as she could down the street. She didn't hear her mother call her to come back, and even if she did, she would have ignored her. She didn't know where she was going or why she had suddenly done it, but she didn't care. She needed to go to a place where nothing else could touch her.

* * *

><p>AN: So I have one more chapter where I think I can just edit around some stuff I already have, and then after that I'm writing all from scratch. So look for one more month or so of regularity, followed by a giant brain fart of epic proportions.<p> 


	4. Chapter 4

AN: Goodness, this is a long one. I've re-written this chapter so many times now that I just don't care anymore.

I apologize for my OC. I despise OCs with a passion, especially ones that I created. Because any character of mine is never given a name just because, I will tell you that the name Joanne is a character from Rent. I was performing in it at the time when I first started writing this story.

Chapter 4

Mr. Skaff could just make out the indisputable sound of Joanne's fast-paced stride coming closer. A moment later, his office door swung open.

"Someone needs to permanently tranquilize that man,"she sighed heavily, placing a folder on his desk, "I think it's safe to say he doesn't like me very much."

"He's a top-security sociopath, Joanne, of course he doesn't like you,"Mr. Skaff answered dryly, haphazardly shoving the folder in his desk and pulling out another one, "I've got a new case for you."

"Because I don't have enough already,"she said, rolling her eyes, "How bad?"

"Nothing you haven't seen before. Killed two kids in one night." Joanne faltered, but only for a moment.

"What's his history?"

"Doesn't have one." Joanne stared.

"….Pardon?"

"No history,"he repeated with a bemused shrug, "No medical records, no birth certificate - we can't even find a social security number. All we have is a name - Edward or Edmund or something like that. It's written somewhere in his file."

"Is he at least being restrained?"Joanne asked, looking desperate, "How do I even work with him if I don't know what I'm up against?"

"He is for now. Can't say if he needs it, though. You'll have to let me know what level of security you think he needs. So far he's just been sitting there. Doesn't talk or do anything. He doesn't even sleep. "

"That's encouraging,"she muttered sarcastically. That's just what she needed - a sleep-deprived criminal.

"You'll be fine. He's just a kid."

"A kid?"she asked, raising an eyebrow, "Why is he even here if he's underage? Can't Juvenile take him?"

"He's a special kind of kid. Half-bat." She hesitated, waiting for the punchline.

"...What?"she finally asked.

"I just told you. He's half-animal. Half-bat, half-human. Literally bat-crazy." He smiled at his own joke.

"Of course he is,"she said, rolling her eyes, "And can he fly, too? Should I be worried that he's going to sprout wings and fly out of the window?"

"You laugh, but just wait. You'll see." She regarded him a little more seriously, beginning to wonder.

"You can't be serious,"she finally said when he remained resolutely silent.

"Dead serious."

"Shouldn't he be taken to a _vet_?"

"The vet who called us didn't seem to think so,"he said, catching her surprised look, "Besides, he looks human enough to me."

"Does he speak English?"she asked, looking concerned. This was, by far, the strangest thing she had ever heard. And that was saying something considering she worked in a hospital for the criminally insane. She was used to frightening cases: murderers, rapists, dangerously insane men and women who had done things so disturbing, even their family couldn't know. But _they_ were at least human. This...this was something she wasn't remotely prepared for.

"I don't know, sure,"he replied with a sigh of exasperation, "Jesus, Joanne, just go see for yourself." He handed her the folder, which was, as predicted, completely empty except for Skaff's unmistakable scrawl on the side tab. _Edgar Parker._ She took it tentatively, apprehensively wondering what it was she was getting herself into.

* * *

><p>Edgar wasn't sure how long he had been lying there, but he knew it must have been a long time when he finally heard the knock on his door. Groggily he sat up a little, his head spinning wildly, his arms barely able to sustain him, he was so exhausted and weak. He had been so adamant to not sleep, to not subject himself to the nightmares he knew would follow, the drowsiness had made him temporarily forget what was coming.<p>

The door slowly opened and a woman stepped in.

Instantly, Edgar's senses were alert, and all thoughts of sleep were banished from his mind. It wasn't until that moment that it really hit him how terrifying the thought of facing another person right now really was. There was nothing to guarantee that this introduction would turn out any better than his last. He could very well relive his experience as a monster if he said or did just one wrong thing. Immediately he tensed, wishing he could sink right into the wall and turn invisible.

"Edgar Parker?"the woman asked, spotting him hiding in the shadows. The sound of his name sounded strange to him, like a foreign word. It didn't belong to him.

He held his breath, his heart thudding heavily in his chest. She stepped back when the light from the hallway hit his face, illuminating his bat-like features. The light blinded him for a temporary moment, making it impossible for him to see her face, or her reaction.

"Is it alright if I call you Edgar?"she asked as she shut the door, her face quickly masked and composed before he could get a chance to see the look of incredulous surprise that had spread on her face. She did not shake his hand, instead opting to stand by the doorway, a safe distance away.

"Do you speak any English?"she asked slowly.

He didn't respond, his throat suddenly too tight to speak. Instead he brought his knees up to his chest and tried to disappear. She was a middle-aged woman with short brown hair and glasses, staring at him with an artificial stiffness that told him she was mustering every ounce of self-restraint to not stare. Immediately he wished she would go away so he could curl back into a ball on the floor. He didn't want to do this.

With all the bravery he could muster, he slowly nodded.

"Wonderful. Edgar, my name is Joanne Nelson. I'm a social worker who specializes in behavioral analysis and therapy. I'll be staying with you for the next hour and half an hour twice a day from now on to talk with you, access treatment possibilities and an appropriate level of security. During that time you may talk to me about whatever you want. Whatever you say in here will be kept confidential to everyone except my supervisor and, of course, security," she said, pointing to the camera in the corner of the room, "You are not required to talk at all, but just know that I can't help you if I can't communicate with you. Do you understand?" Joanne herself felt like hiding, but she didn't have that luxury. The words she spoke were wonderfully familiar and robotic; she could have said the same thing to any other new patient. He looked human enough at first glance; at least, he didn't have any wings or horns, and he didn't walk on all fours. But now that she had a closer look at him, the reality of his strange predicament was clear. The pointed ears, pale, hairless skin, the large eyes, even his mannerisms as he sat suspended, only his feet touching the floor - all pointed to something undeniably not human. Even still, he was clearly nervous, and simply knowing he was just as scared as she was made it all the more easier to bring him down to a common ground.

"So,"she began, not looking at all put off by his silence and instead taking the only chair in the room and positioning it as far away as she could politely get away with, "Do you have any questions or anything you'd like to talk to me about, Edgar? Anything you want to know about this place?" He didn't answer for a while. He didn't know what a therapist or social worker was, and even if he did, he didn't trust her anyway. He felt self-conscious as he surrendered himself to her intensive scrutiny. He wished there was some way to hide his ears. He hated how she looked at him. She couldn't even look straight at him; her eyes kept swerving over to the side of his head. He was scared to talk; if he opened his mouth she would see his fangs, too.

Too afraid to speak, he merely shrugged his shoulders.

"Well then,"she said, crossing her knees, "Do you want to tell me why you're here?" Edgar took a moment to respond, as if debating whether it was worth the effort to use his voice.

Slowly he shook his head.

"How are you feeling right now?"she asked gently. He hesitated, unsure if he knew for himself, and even less sure that he was ready to speak at all.

"...Scared,"he finally said, his voice coming out no louder than a whisper. She watched him, reading his body language and trying to interpret it to make up for his lack of words. He carried himself as if he was too tired to try, or too uncaring, and his voice possessed a certain dead quality when he spoke-soft and quiet-yet not because he was shy, but because he felt they were wasted words.

"Scared of me or scared or your situation?"she asked. He still wouldn't look at her.

"Both,"he replied quietly. Talking was relatively easy, he realized with relief.

"You don't need to be scared,"she assured him, "The worst is over now. We're just going to talk right now. I'm not going to hurt you, I promise." He nodded stiffly, trying to believe her, but finding it hard to do so when he could practically feel her own fear radiating from across the room. He put his head on his knees without responding, feeling sick, weak, hungry, unbearably tired, and completely alienated.

"How about we get the boring stuff out of the way first?"she offered, pulling out the folder, "I noticed that you don't have any records on file." Edgar glanced up, looking helpless. What was she talking about?

"No address, no phone number, no birth records, not even a social security number…,"she said, staring at the empty lines, "Can you tell me what that's about, Edgar?" He continued to stare, completely lost.

"Where is your home?" She waited a moment, then softly he finally spoke:

"I don't have one."

"Is there anybody I can call for you? Do you know their phone number?" Again, Edgar looked helpless. He had seen Meredith and Shelley using phones before, and he understood what she was referring to, but he didn't have a clue how a phone worked or what a phone number even was.

Joanne patiently waited for an answer. He was too guarded, too afraid to speak, she thought to herself.

Deciding to change tactics, she asked, "Let's just get to know each other a little first. May I ask if you have friends or family, Edgar?" He didn't like being asked questions. Questions required vocal answers.

"...Not really,"he mumbled.

"What does 'not really' mean?" For a long time, Edgar didn't say anything.

"It mean it depends on what you consider "family","he finally answered.

"If I may ask, are you from England?" The ridiculousness of the question baffled him for a moment. Slowly he shook his head.

"Your accent,"she explained, "It's very distinctly British." He shifted, looking uncomfortable, wondering how to explain himself.

"I learned English from BBC language tapes,"he explained quietly.

"Oh? What was your first language?"

"….Bat." There was a beat of silence.

"Bat?"she repeated, eyes wide, "As in…?"

"I was raised by bats,"he explained slowly, "I grew up in a cave."

"You were _raised_ by bats?"she repeated, a little disbelievingly. He hesitated, wondering if her incredulous tone hinted more at surprise or accusation.

"For how long?"she asked, genuinely curious now.

"All my life...,"he responded slowly, looking a little insecure as he hid the bottom half of his face behind his knees.

"Well then,"she said, laughing a little as she made some notes in the folder, "That would explain the lack of records. And I'm assuming you weren't civilized before that?" Edgar's eyes narrowed, unable to help feeling defensive.

"To your standards, I suppose not,"he answered a little coldly. She opened her mouth to ask a question, closed it, and instead made a note in the folder. It certainly wasn't something he would have said a few days ago, but he would be lying if he said he wasn't at least a little hurt that the human world would so ignorantly call him uncivilized when the animal world he had lived in would think the human world insane for half the things they did. The silly rituals of getting dressed, eating in unnatural, man-made bowls, acting certain ways to certain people - _that_ was insane.

And the fact that she was so surprised by the fact that he was indeed "civilized" made him feel all the more bitter about it.

"How long did it take you to learn English and adapt to your new environment?"she asked, breaking him from his thoughts.

"A few months,"he answered quietly, the bitterness that had blossomed in his heart only half-masked.

"...You learned English in a couple months?"she asked in awe and disbelief. He nodded without comment.

"That's incredible. You speak so eloquently, I never would have guessed. You must be incredibly smart and well-adaptive." In any other situation, he would have shrugged modestly. But he didn't move, more annoyed than pleased. Why did he feel so annoyed that she looked so surprised? Wasn't that the point of learning to be human in the first place? To surprise everyone with his charm and wit?

"Surely you didn't teach yourself that quickly, though,"she commented, "Did someone help you?"

"My...mother did...,"he said, cringing as he said the word 'mother.'

"You lived with a human family, then?"she continued, taking note of the emotions playing over his face. He took a long time to respond.

"...If that's what you want to call them."

"Are you close with them?"she asked. Again, he didn't know how to answer. He shrugged again, not looking at her.

"You don't have a good relationship with them?"she guessed, "Or just not anymore?" Edgar turned his face away, wishing she would change the subject. Finally he made a gesture with his finger to indicate the second one.

"Are you close with anybody?"she continued, looking intrigued by his silence instead of put off. He still didn't respond. He knew where this was headed.

"There has to be someone you care about,"she pressed. Edgar shifted uncomfortably, not looking at her.

"Shelley,"he finally whispered, feeling his heart break as he said it, "I loved Shelley more than anyone in the entire world." Joanne was quiet for a while. It was the first thing he had said with any real emotion in his voice. It may have seen the softness in her expression, because he quickly looked down, embarrassed now.

"And what is your relation to Shelley?"she asked gently. Edgar shifted again, staring hard at a spot on the floor as his hands clenched and unclenched anxiously.

"Did she live with the family you were with?"she continued when he didn't respond. Slowly, he nodded.

"Were you romantically involved with her?" This time Edgar did not answer. Joanne waited and waited, but the look on Edgar's face told her they were heading into uncomfortable territory.

"What does this have to do with analyzing how dangerous I am?"he suddenly asked, feeling his voice unexpectedly rise as he desperately tried to turn the conversation away from the one thing he didn't want to think about.

"All I want to do today is get to know you, that's all," Joanne replied, her tone casual, "However, to answer your question, love _can_ make people do crazy, dangerous things sometimes, so it's important to remember that when we're being emotionally compromised in a stressful situation."

Edgar couldn't deny this, because he knew it was true. He hadn't attacked Rick because he was scared for himself. He attacked Rick because he hurt Shelley. He had killed someone out of sheer selfish desire to protect the girl he loved.

"Fine then,"he said, after a long stretch of silence. There was no hint of anger or bitterness now. Joanne cocked her head to the side, surprised. "Then I'm dangerous. Put that down on your list of reasons why I'm crazy."

"Whoa there, tiger, slow down, I never said you were crazy,"she said, laughing lightly, "I only meant that people can often do irrational things when they're infatuated, so it's important to keep that in mind."

"Then I'm irrational,"he said dryly, his arms tightening around himself as he continued to stare at the floor, "Reckless, dangerous, whatever you want to label it. I just don't want to talk about her." He could have made more of an effort to be cordial, but at that moment the past few day's exhaustion suddenly hammered him, making him realize how very tired he was and how sick he was of being here and doing this. He didn't care anymore. He just wanted to be left alone.

"You're being very needlessly defensive. I'm not trying to attack you for liking this girl." He held in a breath and counted to five, willing himself to not feel so angry and hurt and tired and hungry.

"But I _am_ dangerous,"he countered.

"I believe you were the one who called yourself dangerous, not me,"she said, her unfazed reaction frustratingly unsatisfying, "I only want to access your ability to be treated, Edgar. I'm not here to criticize you."

"Why would I _want_ to be treated?"he asked seriously, finally looking up, "So I can leave and then be sent right back?" In that brief moment he had spoken, he had forgotten to hide his mouth. She held back a gasp at the sudden sight of his fangs, but couldn't help the surprised expression that appeared on her face a second too late. Edgar, of course, noticed.

"T-there's no shame in getting help,"she said slowly, trying to compose herself, "We can't expect anyone to come pre-packaged with all the tools necessary to deal with life's problems, can we? That's what you're here for." He glared at her as his hands tightened into fists, more than annoyed, by her statement and by her sudden reaction.

"But I'm not going to be treated, am I?"he said, his words biting and colder than even he expected, "I'm just going to be put in another cage. You already know all the horrible things I've done. Just lock me up if you're that afraid of me." It sounded just as uncharacteristically rude out loud as it did in his head, but he didn't regret it. In fact, he was glad he wasn't filtering anything. He wasn't going to fight to be Edgar the gentleman who fit into a picture-perfect depiction of human society anymore. He was just Edgar, and she or anybody else wasn't going to make him feel guilty for it.

"I'm not afraid of you,"she said, trying to keep her voice calm.

"You're lying. I can tell,"he said, raising his gaze to finally look at her directly for the first time, "Call it...animal instinct." He knew he had affected her by the way she stared blankly at him, trying to keep her countenance void of any expression. He could feel it. He could feel her fear and uneasiness. She had probably drawn all the connections already: how he killed, what he was, and just how much of a threat he was to the people around him.

"Edgar, all I know is that you supposedly killed two people. There's convincing evidence to say you could be locked up, but I do want your side of the story." Edgar turned his face to the side, resting his cheek on his knee and not looking at her.

"There_ isn't_ another side of the story. The big bad monster bit two innocent people and they died, the end."

"You're not even trying."

"Why should I try?"he asked, turning his head back down. He was born this way, and he was sick of trying to prove he could change.

"What if trying meant you could see Shelley?"she asked. He was trying hard not to think of Shelley, but if he did want to see her, it wouldn't be in here.

"I don't want to see her,"he said, shaking his head.

"Well then what if it meant simply going outside?"

"There's nothing that great out there,"he muttered dejectedly.

"What do you want to do then?"

"I DON'T KNOW!"he shouted, surprising himself with the sudden volume of his voice. Apparently she seemed surprised too, because she didn't say anything for a moment. He slowly sunk back into himself, hugging his knees as he willed everything around him to disappear.

"I don't know,"he said again, muttering the words softly into his knees.

"_Do_ you want to do anything about your situation?"she finally asked slowly, quietly. Edgar stared at the floor for a long stretch of silence as he seriously considered this.

"I just want to not exist anymore,"he finally mumbled, his voice quieter now with submissive honesty.

"Edgar, to be honest I don't know how to help you if you don't want to be helped,"she said gently.

"Then just leave me alone,"he muttered, "You're all just here to gawk at the freak anyway. You've done your 'analysis.' Dissect me like a lab rat, I don't care. Just let me die."

"I couldn't do that. I'm here to help you." This sounded absolutely moronic to Edgar. Maybe it was the fact that he had known all along that he didn't want to be helped; or maybe the fact that he absolutely hated her kindness, and still she kept up the false pretense she was helping him. He hated this. He hated her. He hated the fake sincerity she was paid to give. It reminded him all too much of the fake sincerity his own mother had lavished on him.

"That's ridiculous,"he said, glaring at his knees. He felt a growing anger well up inside him: anger for her insincerity, anger that she was afraid of him, anger at himself for being someone to be feared when all he had wanted was for people to accept him, and most of all, anger that he was constantly being forced into a cage to have weak, hypocritical, human affection maliciously harrowed at him. He didn't need her concern. He had done fine on his own before the human's world of God-loving compassion and charity completely uprooted his peaceful solitude. All he wanted was to disappear. Why wouldn't anyone grant him that wish?

"Edgar, have you been having suicidal thoughts?"she asked suddenly, making him look up in surprise. Suicide was not a word Edgar had learned, but when she said it, he knew exactly what she was talking about.

"No,"he lied as quickly as he could, "How much longer?"

"Don't avoid the question, Edgar."

"I just answered the question."

"A lot of patients here try to kill themselves the first few weeks they get here. Very few are able to. Suicide isn't the way to reconcile with yourself, Edgar. Time and an honest effort to change is." Edgar stared hard at the ground, holding his breath while he waited for her to finish.

"How much longer?"he asked again. She sighed, not bothering to look at her watch.

"Fifteen minutes."

"Can we stop?"he asked.

"Edgar, you can't fix your problems by running away from them. Or chasing them away, for that matter. If you don't confront this head-on, you're going to regret it down the road." He glared at her without holding back his hatred. There wasn't hope of a future for him. He lived in a world full of pain and hatred, and there wasn't any "treatment" that was going to change that. He would never be able to go back to his place of blissful ignorance with the knowledge he knew now, and he hated her for it, and he hated Mrs. Parker for it, and he hated that town for it. Why couldn't she just leave him alone and let him leave the world, just as horrible and painful as when he had entered it?

"I don't care what's down the road,"he answered morosely.

"You will care someday,"she said softly, "You don't see it now, but you will."

"No I won't. I'm dangerous and disgusting and I don't deserve to live. I don't need somebody to try and figure out exactly what a freak I am. I've figured it out for myself already."

He had barely spoken except to tell her not to bother with him; and yet Joanne could hear such a desperate plea for understanding in between every self-depreciating comment he uttered. He really was no different from any other crazed teenager desperately seeking acceptance and respect from his peers. She watched him slowly begin to break, with his sad, downcast eyes, his eyes slightly glassy with overwhelming exhaustion, and his weak and tired body curled up protectively because it was the only way he knew how to shield his broken heart. She didn't know him, but she could only suspect this much: even with all his unusual characteristics, the countenance of a teenage boy outshone that of a wild animal.

"Edgar, do you know how old you are?"she asked suddenly, her voice forgiving but firm. Edgar was taken back by the question. This was not what he expected her to say after such a confession.

"I-I don't know,"he answered softly when he had finally collected his bearings, "Sixteen I think?"

"So young...,"she said thoughtfully, looking at him, "You're the youngest one here, you know." Edgar stared at her blankly, not expecting such a response. He didn't know what to say.

"Edgar, listen,"she said with a sigh, "Your situation isn't as hopeless as you think it is."

"Yes it is,"he said.

"I'm serious,"she pressed, "Most people here stay here because they do exactly what you're doing - they give up. They don't try."

"Maybe they can't,"he finally answered.

"That's exactly why they never try,"she said seriously, "The think they can't make it, so they don't try. If more made the effort, change could be possible. I'll be honest, I don't have much hope for a lot of people here. But you're young, and I think if you were capable of learning so much in just a few months, there's no reason why you couldn't improve your situation if you wanted to."

"But I don't,"he said, shaking his head. His voice no longer held his earlier contempt and bitterness, but she still sensed some reservation.

"You can't kill yourself, Edgar. Even if you tried, they won't let you. We don't have high security here just to keep our patients in - it's there to stop you from doing something stupid to yourself.

"Listen, I'm going to say something I tell a lot of people here. Whatever you did to get here, even if people are afraid of you, it doesn't make you any less of a person. You have potential to be hurt or be healed, same as everyone else,"she said honestly, making him uncomfortable with the steadiness of her gaze. She realized as she spoke those words that she believed them, and this surprised her. Edgar looked away, bending his knees once more to hide his face. He felt vulnerable under her oppressive stare. This felt different; this suddenly felt genuine.

"Either way, it's your choice. We can be done for now if you want to stop. I'll be back tomorrow at the same time, though." He didn't move his head at all, determined to remain silent. He just sat there staring into the dark shadow of his arm. She stood up and returned the chair to the desk where she found it.

"I'll see you tomorrow, then,"she said, stepping back toward the door, "Get some sleep. You look exhausted." She turned around to look at him one last time, trying to catch his gaze. He looked up fleetingly-just for a moment-and then dropped his eyes again without saying goodbye.

Once she was outside, she heaved in a heavy sigh, a little shaken. She felt bad for him, she realized. Without even knowing the details of his experience, she knew there was something about him that spoke of real, genuine pain, of pain that she knew was richer and rawer because of his youth.

Skaff was almost always doing something in his office. Very rarely did she ever see him emerge from his cramped cave, and when he did it was only to deliver short messages. She knocked boldly on his door and was immediately granted access.

"I'm back,"she announced, stepping inside. His office was quite a mess. While he made an honest effort to hide the fact that he was a disorganized slob, there was always evidence lying around-in the way the desk always seemed to have papers he wasn't working on laying on it, in the always-full trash can, in the way he loved to throw random papers into drawers without even looking at what drawer it was for.

He looked up from his desk, surprised to see her back so soon. He had been filling out some form before she had walked in, but now he put it away, carelessly shoving it to the side and pushing his chair forward.

"From?"he asked, giving her his full attention.

"From talking to Edgar,"she reminded him.

"Edgar...uh..."

"The bat boy,"she said, sighing with exasperation.

"Right. And? I'm assuming it went badly if you're back this early."

"No, he was just a little shaken, that's all. Honestly, he isn't as bad as you made him sound. Almost normal, even." Skaff looked up in surprise. This wasn't what he was expecting to hear from her.

"Normal?"he repeated incredulously, "Have you seen him? The kid's a freak."

"I had my doubts, too, but I have a good feeling about him. His background's certainly not normal. He says he grew up in a cave. He's a little awkward and insecure, definitely has a severe case of depression and anxiety, but considering how long he's been around other people, I think he has a lot of potential to get better."

"...Are you serious?"

"Very serious."

"...Do you think he's safe?"

"That, I don't know. I don't think he wants me to think so, but he isn't in any emotional state to make clear judgements about himself,"she replied honestly, "He certainly does have the capability to cause some damage if he wants to. I only got a quick glimpse of them, but those fangs definitely aren't there for decoration. He seems adamant that he's too dangerous to be reintegrated into society, but I have a feeling that's just an excuse. If he isn't already trying, he's going to try to kill himself."

"We've already stopped him twice, we can do it again,"he said firmly, not looking daunted in the slightest by this news.

"There are other ways to kill yourself,"Joanne mused aloud, "I'm worried about him. Nobody should have to deal with all of that...especially not such a young boy."

"Young or not, he's still a murderer,"he said flatly.

"I don't know,"she said thoughtfully, "It'll be interesting to see what we can dig up."

"Well, do whatever you need to. We can't have him dying on us,"he replied indifferently, "He's gotten too much publicity. We've already had two suicides this year. He'll be the cherry on the cake if he goes through with it, and I'll be out of the job for sure..."

"Well I'm glad to hear your intentions are in the right place,"she said with a scowl, getting up to leave.

"They always are,"he called out sarcastically after her as she slammed the door behind her.


	5. Chapter 5

AN: Yikes. Sorry for the hiatus. Spurts of motivation to continue this are far and few between. I broke this chapter up into two, and I'll try to keep the chapters shorter from now on so I'm more motivated to write in the future. Also, I edited most of the earlier chapters, so hopefully they flow a little better.

* * *

><p>Chapter 5<p>

Edgar lived in a world of perpetual silence. He didn't speak to anyone but Joanne when she came by. He drifted in and out of sleep only to be woken by terrifying dreams, and was often left shivering on the floor, tightly hugging his legs close to him as he waited for the terrifying images to run their laps and then finally give way to exhaustion and a sense of cold, familiar darkness. He ate because the more he fought it, the more he realized he was not physically capable of ignoring the hated cup of blood shoved under a latch in the door every day. He waited, dissolving into silence when nothing else could be said, and warily counted down the moments when he would die.

Joanne was patient with him, but with each session, Edgar cared less and less about her presence, sometimes not even bothering to sit up or even pretend to give her his attention. He wouldn't talk about what happened. Joanne could barely grasp a touch of his true character, unhindered by superfluous self-pity and his half-hearted anger towards her, but very little of his past - other than a clear affinity for a girl named Shelley. Everyday, there was less and less of him to speak for. And as Joanne sought more and more to help him break free of his cage, he continued to embrace it, imitating the quiet loneliness of the world that only a caged animal could see.

"Edgar?"Joanne asked him after three days had passed. At first, he remained as passive and unresponsive as ever. He was tucked safely against the side of the wall with his back turned to her, his breathing slow and shallow and his eyes closed, as if he were asleep. Joanne knew better, though. He had been fighting to stay awake as long as he could ever since he got here. To avoid the nightmares, he had said.

Joanne considered him, at the only person on the earth who bore the scars of both animal and human cruelty. She wondered inwardly which ones cut the deepest.

"Are you ever going to talk?"she asked, addressing the back of his motionless head. There was a beat of silence, and just when she thought perhaps he had fallen asleep after all, the answer came, in a soft, barely audible voice tinged with such pain that Joanne had to remind herself to keep a blank face.

"No."

"Is there anyone you would talk to?"she asked. The lag time was longer this time, his body so still and quiet Joanne half suspected he had fallen asleep. His answer came softly, so quiet Joanne could barely hear it.

"I don't know."

* * *

><p>Shelley didn't know which was worse: leaving the home you loved or staying in a place you absolutely detested. Her mother's cousins were the very picture of stereotypical, Southern white trash: superficial, loud, constantly gossiping about people Shelley had never met, and bent to ensure that the entire world revolved around them and their mediocre conversations. Shelley couldn't fathom why her mother was so close to them.<p>

Shelley could have enrolled at Wheeling High, but Meredith seemed convinced that their stay was only temporary. There was nothing going on to suggest that this was true, but Shelley consented without complaint, unwilling to keep fighting with her mother, and even less willing to fight to go to school. However, she was bored, restless, and couldn't seem to find anything better to do than to take the bus all the way to the psychiatric institute on the far side of town, sit on the ground outside the chain link fence, and stare at each and every window, trying to see if she could catch a glimpse of Edgar in one of them.

Shelley and Meredith avoided each other when they could. Or at least, Shelley did. Meredith saw Shelley only when she came home, reported what whatever she could find out about Edgar's condition, and let Shelley retreat into the guest room in silence. It was never anything new. He was stable. He was still in custody. His case is being reviewed by an analyst. Nothing that told Shelley how he was _really_ doing.

It was only when her cousins were out and the house was truly quiet for the first time that Shelley dared approach her mother.

"Mom?"she asked, finding her outside, "Where's Daddy?" Meredith turned, unwilling to raise her head to meet her daughter's gaze.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, where is he? I mean...I know we joked about leaving him behind, but I didn't think we actually meant we weren't ever going to see him again."

"He's not coming back, Shelley,"she said tightly.

"But where _is_ he?"she asked.

"I don't know."

"Doesn't that worry you that you don't know where he is?"she asked quizzically, "What if he snapped when he saw the house empty? What if the town did something to him?"

"As long as he can't find us, "she said a little too quickly, then saw the look on her daughter's face and amended herself, "I'm sure he's perfectly fine, Shelley."

"How do you know if you haven't talked to him?"she asked.

"Because he can take care of himself,"she sighed with exasperation. Shelley stared at her, knowing she was lying but knowing she would only be feeding the fire by pointing it out. So instead she held her tongue and went back inside.

Her mother would never talk about her father. Shelley could only guess they would eventually get a divorce. The thought upset her more than her mother would ever know, but she tried not to think about it. Overnight, her family had unraveled, and there was no way to put it back together again. She felt as if she had been living in a dream her entire life, and only now was the dream truly ending. Her parents didn't love each other. They never had. She had simply been used as a supporting piece in their little play they had put on for her.

She shut the door to the guest room and sank to the floor. Sometimes when the horrible, clarifying truth became too unbearable, she simply shut down, willing herself to accept that nothing would ever be the same again. She would never see her parents together again. She would never see her home again. It seemed the only thing she still refused to accept was true was that she would never see Edgar again.

Shelley waited until her mother left again to go back outside. She needed to breathe, get away from that stifling house where there was nothing to do but think about everything she had left behind. Seating herself on the front porch, she stared out at the street, her eyes unfocused as she wondered what Edgar was doing, what he was feeling, if he would ever be the same again. Assuming she would eventually get to him, that is.

It wasn't until several minutes when she suddenly realized there was someone on the other side of the street, staring at her. She stared back, confused at first and then dumbfounded as she finally realized who it was she was looking at.

"Dad?"she asked breathlessly, standing, "DADDY!" She darted forward, sprinting down the steps and across the street, where, sure enough, Thomas stood, a small smile on his face as Shelley practically dove into his arms. Shelley didn't care what had brought her father here, or how he had found them, or even about what happened. Right now, she was just glad he was here.

"Dad, what are you doing here?"she asked, finally leaning back to look at him.

"I came to see you, of course,"he said with a small smile.

"You mean you came to see Mom,"she corrected him.

"No, I came to see _you_,"he insisted, kissing her hair. Shelley beamed. Seeing her father was such a comforting relief after everything that had happened, she couldn't help not being angry with him. At least for this moment.

"How did you find us?"she asked, worried now. She knew her mother would not be happy about this. Her mother had never been clear on her escape plans, but Shelley heard her, late at night, talking to her cousins about different ways they could quietly disappear from Thomas' life. They may not talk as much, but Shelley could gather that she was desperately trying to create distance between her and her husband. The fact that he was here, in Wheeling, without any help from Meredith to guess her whereabouts, would send her mother packing in a second. And that would mean more distance from Edgar.

"Mom only has so many relatives,"Thomas replied with a nervous laugh.

"...You're not going to try and talk to her, are you?"she asked, "Because she's been trying really hard to avoid you lately."

"I...thought I might give it a shot,"he said slowly, looking unsure. Shelley looked worriedly at her father.

"I...really don't think you should, Dad. She's pretty mad right now,"she said carefully, "Try again later, though, okay? Maybe in a few days. She's really worked up right now, but hopefully she'll calm down soon. If you tell her now, she'll want to move again." Thomas hesitated. He didn't want to talk about their failing relationship in front of his own daughter. As far as he could see, Shelley was the same sheltered girl she had always been, and that was how he intended to keep it.

"Alright. If you think that's best,"he said doggedly with a forced smile. "Well then. Are you two packing up again soon?"

"I don't know. I don't even think we know where we're going yet." Shelley shifted uncomfortably, crossing her arms over her chest and anxiously rocking on the balls of her feet. Honestly, she didn't know how much she was willing to tell her father about their situation. She didn't know the details herself, and even if she did, she wasn't even sure she knew how she felt about all of this yet.

"You're not hurt, are you? The town wasn't mad?"Shelley asked, looking up.

"Mad? Oh no. I'm Hope Fall's Hero right now,"he said, laughing lightly, "Even if they were, I can take care of myself." Shelley nodded stiffly and looked intensely at the ground, feeling awkward now with the implied accusation of Edgar's banishment as being something worthy of honor and praise. She didn't know how to escape the feeling of tension and apprehension around the subject.

"….Mom says this is all your fault,"she finally said quietly. She meant it casually but it came out awkward, uncomfortable, and full of pain and unsaid accusations. Thomas was didn't say anything for a long time.

"….Well what do you say?" Shelley shrugged, not looking at him.

"I don't know. I mean….it can't be all your fault, right? Some parts of it all had to be an accident…." Neither father nor daughter quite knew what to say to this.

"Honestly, Dad...I wouldn't be lying if I said I wasn't a little bit mad, too...,"Shelley finally said, averting her eyes.

"Not as mad as Mom, though,"he managed to say. Again, Shelley hesitated.

"I guess not,"she said with a shrug. Thomas stared at her, studying his daughter. Amid all the accusations he had suffered, all the blame thrown at him, it was only at this moment, watching the guilt play on his only child's face, that Thomas truly felt guilt for what he had done.

"...You really didn't need to rile the whole town up like that, Dad. You could have just...told Edgar he wasn't safe, or…..I don't know. Mom and I wouldn't have liked it, but he would have listened to you if he thought he was dangerous. You didn't have to make a big scene like that."

"I know,"he said finally.

"…Well why'd you do it, then?"

"I just…wasn't thinking straight, sweetheart."

"But I loved him,"she whispered. He swallowed uncomfortably.

"...I didn't know that, Shelley. Maybe I would have….gone about it a little differently if I knew how much having to take him away would have affected you." His daughter shook her head, pinning her arms tighter to her chest.

"But we all loved him. It was so obvious. I thought you loved him too. You always acted like you did." Thomas hesitated, wondering what string of lies was most appropriate to weave her into in order to protect her from the truth.

"Jealousy can bring out the worst in even the best people, Shelley. I'm sorry,"he finally said.

"...Were you mad at me? I mean you were mad at Mom because she loved Edgar, right?"she said carefully, not looking at him, "You weren't mad at me too, were you?"

"No,"he said immediately, "No, of course not."

"But…I probably didn't help, did I?"she said, looking helplessly at her father.

"You had nothing to do with it, Shelley,"he reassured her.

"I just…don't get it, though. Everything was so perfect and then it all changed so fast. I'm just so sad and…disappointed, I guess,"Shelley finally said, "Not in you or mom or anyone else, but just...I never suspected anything. Like I really thought we were this perfect, happy family before, but now….I don't know. I don't feel like I can really trust you or mom or anybody now." Thomas held his breath, a tightness building in his chest that made it difficult to speak. He could see the emotion welling up in Shelley's eyes, the overwhelming fear and exhaustion all too apparent in her face. He did this to her. He had been the one to turn her into this sad, cynical stranger.

"I know I wasn't honest to you about Edgar. But I've always been honest to you when it really mattered, Shelley,"he said seriously, pushing her chin up to make her look at him, "We'll make things right. We'll be a family again. I promise." Shelley could feel moisture in her eyes threatening to surface, but she held them down. Of course that wasn't true. Even she knew that.

"'M'kay,"she answered unconvincingly. Another tense moment passed before Shelley finally broke the silence.

"I better….get back to mom before she sees us out here,"she said, not looking at him.

"Alright,"Thomas said with a nod, reaching in to hug his daughter one last time, "I'm glad I got to see you. I love you." He stared at her imploringly, willing her to know that he meant it with all his heart.

"Me too,"she said a little less convincingly, hugging him back. She did mean it, though - no matter what her father had done, no matter how half-hearted it sounded now, she still loved him.

"Be safe, okay?"Thomas said, "If you need anything at all, don't be afraid to contact me. I don't care what your mom said - you're my daughter and I'll always be there for you when you need me."

"Okay,"Shelley answered, smiling a little. She didn't know whether she could ever trust her father enough to take him up on that offer, but it was comforting nonetheless to know that this change didn't mean a permanent end to every relationship that had ever mattered to her. Her father at least still felt the same.

A sad wave was all Shelley could manage as she turned away, heading back toward that dreaded house. A heavy weight bore on her, the weight of knowing everything she had ever known and loved was different now. Her family was only a shadow of a promise of normality and stability in her life, and even then, she didn't know if she could muster the willpower to trust any of them again. With the exception of Edgar, of course.

Ignoring the looks of her cousins, Shelley made a sharp turn down the hall, shut the door to the bathroom, and turned the water on full blast so that nobody would hear her finally break down and cry.

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><p>It was late in the afternoon when Joanne got a call from the institute's medical ward. She had just finished her last patient for the day and was filling out last minute paperwork when she heard the desk phone ring. What she heard on the other line made her nearly spill her coffee over herself.<p>

_"_He_ what?_"


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

It was quiet in the hospital wing when Joanne finally arrived. It didn't take long to find him, lying still and motionless on a bed at the far side of the room. She punched in the security code and let herself in. He didn't acknowledge her as she approached him, but she pulled up a chair and sat down on the side of the bed regardless. He stared firmly up at the ceiling, unmoving, unfeeling.

"Edgar." Her voice was sound and firm. "Why would you try to kill yourself?" He was quiet for a long time. Refusing to look her in the eyes, he turned his head to the side. "Edgar,"she whispered, more gently now. He closed his eyes.

"Why are you here?"he finally asked.

"You just tried to commit suicide,"she said, "If that doesn't give me a good enough reason to be here, I don't know what is."

"Go away."

"Sorry,"she said simply, "I know this is a lot to throw at you, but if there was ever a time to talk, it's now."

"There's nothing to talk about."

"You wouldn't be in the hospital wing if there wasn't anything to talk about,"she said, sighing, "I'm surprised you're even talking at all."

"They stopped me before I could bleed too much,"he said, with no emotion in his voice, "I figured out where the cameras are. I was able to hide from them, but I didn't know about the blood receptors in the floor. I didn't even faint. They knocked me out themselves - it was pathetic."

"I'm impressed you were able to figure out where all the cameras are. It takes most patients a few weeks to locate them all, and even then, this place is always equipped with a few surprises,"she said, "Well, I'm glad you're okay. The doctor said you just barely missed a crucial artery. You're lucky to be alive."

"Lucky?"he repeated with a scoff, "I've been trying to starve myself all week, and I can't even bleed myself to death. I'd hardly consider that lucky." Joanne stared at him, quiet for a while.

"Starving yourself takes a lot of self control,"she said quietly, "How did you manage?"

"You'll tell on me,"he muttered bitterly, turning his head to the side.

"I seriously doubt security hasn't figured it out themselves already by now,"she said calmly, "You know I could just ask them." He hesitated, not believing her.

"I lied to the warden. I told him I only needed blood once a month,"he said quietly, "They would still feed me, but nobody questioned why I would skip meals. I got scared that it was taking too long to die, and I didn't want to wait anymore when the nightmares were so bad." She stared at him, not saying a word.

"I was so close... so close...Why are you all even trying to keep me alive? Why don't you just let me die? It's what we all want."

"Because it's not up to us to decide who is deserving of life. Life is an opportunity - one that we only get once."

"I've had more than enough opportunities for one lifetime, thank you,"he hissed spitefully.

"What if they don't all end the same way?"

"They _will _end the same way,"he said.

"The world isn't as bleak and scary as you think it is, Edgar. I know there are bad things out there, but that doesn't mean there aren't good things too." He still wouldn't look at her.

In a very soft voice, he whispered faintly, "I just…don't care anymore."

"Clearly,"she said with a tired sigh, "I want to give you a fighting chance, Edgar. Really I do. But you have to talk to me. I can't even tell you what can be done for you until I know what happened."

"You already know what happened."

"No, actually, I don't!"she said, looking exasperated, "I'm not conning you, Edgar - I really don't know anything about you other than what I was told, and that's that you supposedly killed two kids. The man that drove with you here - he didn't tell us anything. You're the only say we have." Edgar said nothing for a while, intent on staying silent as long as possible.

"If I tell you, will you let me die?"he finally asked.

"I can't make a promise like that, Edgar."

"Then will you at least leave me alone?" She hesitated for a moment, debating his request.

"If…that's really what you want." Edgar sucked in a breath and let out another long, exasperated sigh.

"A girl and her brothers found me in my cave and I bit her,"he started, "I don't know what I did to her to make her end up the way she did, but she was screaming a lot. I was taken to the veterinarian's house, where I lived with Dr. and Mrs. Parker and their daughter, Shelley. Shelley and Mrs. Parker taught me English and showed me how to act like a human. I excelled in all of my studies, but it was never enough. I was foolish and arrogant and I thought I was ready to introduce myself to the world and be around other people. Dr. Parker disagreed, and I attacked him. Mrs. Parker had to intervene to stop me before I bit him. The next day I went to the town's revival with Shelley and Mrs. Parker despite Dr. Parker's disapproval. Everyone received me well and seemed to accept me, until Dr. Parker came. He said that he had found out that my bite was lethal, and that the girl I had bit had died because of me. The girl's brother showed up then, and he was angry with me. He had those things you point at people that makes the loud bang sound."

"A gun?"Joanne offered, listening closely. For such a well-kept secret, he sounded as if he was reading off of a grocery list. There was no pain or emotion in his voice - no indication that anything he was saying held any bearing on him. It was as if he had already accepted he was the monster he described himself as and had truly come to terms with it.

"Yes, a gun. He pointed it at me, but Shelley stepped in front of me. He struck her, and I bit him. I ran before I could stop to think about what I'd done. A few hours later, I found Shelley, alone and looking for me. We started talking and…we realized we both had deep feelings for each other. I loved Shelley, and I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her. But…."

"…But what?" Edgar frowned, the first sign of real emotion Joanne had seen in him all afternoon. He looked suddenly sad, even a little remorseful.

"When Shelley and I were alone together, Mrs. Parker found us. She told us that we were an abomination and that we were disgusting. I didn't understand. I loved Mrs. Parker, and I thought she loved me too, but I honestly felt that a life without Shelley was worse than her disapproval. I was about to bite her, too, but….just before I did, she told me that…that she was my real mother,"Edgar said, waiting a beat for Joanne's eyes to widen in surprise at what this information implied, "I didn't know what to think or do, so I ran. I was so angry at Dr. and Mrs. Parker for telling me - angry enough to kill. Shelley meant everything to me and I couldn't have her. It wasn't until later that I learned that Shelley was only my half-sister, but it didn't matter. Both Dr. Parker and Mrs. Parker had wanted me dead when I was born, and rightly so. They put me in that cave hoping I would freeze or starve to death. I feel sorry that I ever survived."

"Did you ever kill anyone besides the girl and the boy?"

"I killed one of the town's cows after I found out."

"Nobody else? Did you hurt anyone?"

"I wanted to kill Dr. Parker,"he murmured darkly, "I wanted him to kill me more, though. The van arrived before either of us got the chance."

"Tell me, what motivates the attacks?"she asked, her face serious, unfazed by his story.

"Hunger,"he mumbled, shifting his eyes away, "I need blood to survive and it's harder to control my instincts when I'm hungry." Joanne nodded slowly, trying to digest this.

"Tell me about how you feel when you're attacking someone,"she said, "Is it out of fear? Spite? Defensiveness?"

"I'm half-animal,"he said dryly, "I'll attack when I'm threatened, same as any other animal."

"What was threatening you when you attacked the girl?"

"I had never seen another human before then. She kept trying to get closer and shove a bag of chips in my face. I didn't know they were chips then, but the sound scared me. I thought she was dangerous, especially since I couldn't see her. The other two kept shining bright lights in my eyes…" Joanne, stared at him, her eyes widening slightly in surprise.

"Would you have attacked her now? Now that you've been around people and knew what she was doing?"

"Of course not!"he said immediately, looking surprised that she would ask such a thing.

"What about Dr. Parker? What was the motivation behind that attack?"

"I was hungry...He grabbed Mrs. Parker hard and yelled at her…I thought he was going to hurt her."

"So he wasn't necessarily threatening _you_, but you thought he was threatening _her_?"

"I attacked him, that's all,"he corrected with a pointed glare, "There wasn't any reason behind it."

"But there was reasoning behind the attack on the boy,"she interjected, "Obviously if you were being threatened and trying to protect Shelley,"she said, ignoring him. Edgar's eyes narrowed.

"Are you trying to justify murder?"he asked seriously.

"I'm trying to read between the lines, since you're clearly not in a state to be giving an unbiased version of your own story."

"It _is_ an unbiased version. I'm just telling you what happened. That's what you asked for."

"What you're telling me is that the two murders you are here for were acts of self-defense,"she said seriously, her voice rising, "Edgar, people aren't sent to mental institutions for reacting to someone pointing a gun to their head, they're sent to mental institutions for being the one to point the gun in the first place."

"They are if you're a monster like me,"he said, not looking at her, "You can't justify everything I've done. I had just found out my bite was deadly, and I bit him anyway."

"I'm not trying to justify what you did, but guns are just as lethal,"she countered, "While I am concerned about how involuntary you claim your attacks can be, I am also concerned by how harshly your two lethal attacks have been weighed considering the situation you were in. Were you ever tempted to harm someone who wasn't threatening to hurt you?"

"No."

"Have you ever thought about harming someone? Have you ever deliberately planned an attack?"

"Of course not."

"If I were to try to hurt you right now, would you try to attack me?" Edgar's face was blank at first, determined to say no. But after a moment his expression began to crumble. An unexpected wave of moisture welled up in his eyes that made his cheeks burn with embarrassment.

"I don't know,"he finally managed, not looking at her, "Please don't try." Joanne stared at him, making his face burn redder as she studied him, taking in his pained expression, his tight fists, as if he were actually bracing himself for her to attempt it.

"I won't,"she reassured him, seeing him visibly relax, "Although I'll admit, it worries me that you don't even trust yourself to control your instincts even in a pretend situation." Edgar didn't know what to say to this, so he simply stared down at his hands. He couldn't disagree - she was right. It worried him too.

"Do you ever get scared that you're going to hurt someone without meaning to?" He wasn't able to speak for a moment.

"Every day,"he finally managed. Joanne nodded slightly, not saying anything. She didn't need to see the fear on his face - she could hear it in his voice. He was terrified of himself.

"Can you tell me about that?"she pushed gently. Edgar looked distressed under her scrutiny, clenching and unclenching his hands as he stared helplessly up at the ceiling.

"I'm just...so hungry...all the time,"he said, "I've tried to stop, but I can't. It scares me, thinking about how one second I can seem completely normal and be a terrifying monster the next. I could only just barely control myself around the people I love. I don't want to make anyone suffer for my incurable curse. I should do everyone a favor and just...disappear..." Joanne was quiet, hesitant to voice her opinion.

"I'm sorry to bombard you with questions like this. Just help me understand...,"she said instead, "Are you more likely to lose control when you're scared, or is it just an immediate reaction to a threat?"

"Mostly when I'm scared,"he said quietly, "And I'm scared all the time."

"Have you ever been scared enough to be tempted to hurt somebody here, with so much being new and unfamiliar to you?" He didn't answer for a full minute, but Joanne was patient with him, staring intently at him to show that she expected an answer. Finally she could make out the faintest of nods, as if he were ashamed to make such a confession.

"Have you ever been tempted to hurt _me_?"she asked carefully, holding her breath for his answer. He hesitated, looking away, and that was all Joanne needed to hear. She hid her reaction carefully through a carefully practiced mask, but inside she suddenly felt her first real sense of fear.

"Only when I'm hungry."

"But you've been skipping meals,"she quietly, unable to help her voice failing slightly. Edgar had nothing to say to this, looking ashamedly at the IV cord attached to his arm to distract himself from Joanne's knowing stare.

Joanne thought for a while, trying to decide what to do and where to go from here. The room was uncomfortably quiet as Joanne ran through her immediate options. Finally, she stood up and crossed the room, approaching the nurse working at the counter and speaking to her in a hushed tone for a few minutes. When she returned, she carried a small flask in her hands.

"Edgar,"she started, sitting down next to the bed, "I just spoke to the nurse about giving you some medicine that will help you have a dreamless sleep, okay? It's just liquid, so all you have to do is drink it. I told her you need blood, too, so ask when you get hungry." Her face was much gentler now, less contrived and masked with artificial diplomacy. She suddenly talked to him as if he was a person - a person with a life and a history instead of the lifeless husk that he was just a few days ago.

"Tomorrow when you're feeling better, someone will come to see you and ask for a sample of your venom. His name is Tom. He's our lab assistant here. Tom is very serious and very quiet - he won't try to talk to you, and he won't touch you. He just needs a small sample. He'll put it in this, and then leave." She showed him the flask. Edgar stared blankly at her, confused.

"I'm telling you this so that when he does come, you don't feel scared or threatened by him, okay?"she said gently, much to his surprise, "Later, when the nurse says that you're well enough to leave, you'll be escorted back to your room by some the patrol officers here. They won't hurt you, either, they're just there to make sure you don't wander off or do something reckless. Do you understand?" Edgar nodded slowly, still a little perplexed.

"Hang in there, okay? And thank you for being honest with me. If you need anything, you can ask the nurse over there. She'll explain anything you have questions about." Edgar nodded a little, a strange look passing over his face.

"Thank you,"he said sincerely, looking straight at her for the first time that afternoon. She tried to smile at him, debating whether to attempt to comfort him in some way, but thought better of it. She had a lot to think about and a lot to discuss with Skaff, and she wasn't completely sure she trusted him herself.

"You're welcome. And no skipping meals anymore,"she said seriously, "I mean that. If we find out you're not eating, we will force-feed you." Edgar nodded stiffly. He believed her.

"Get some rest,"she said finally, casting him one last glance as she got up to leave. Edgar laid back against the bed with a sigh, wondering now if he would have been better off not saying anything.

* * *

><p>That afternoon Joanne did something she should have done from the very beginning.<p>

"Hey,"she said loudly, making the secretary jump, "Have you received any calls from a Mrs. Parker?" The woman sitting across from her stared blankly, the sound of ringing phones blaring in the background.

"Who Parker?"she asked, looking like a deer in headlights.

"I don't have a first name yet, but the last name is Parker. Have you gotten any calls from someone from the last name of Parker?"

"You mean that annoying mom who keeps calling ten times a day?"she asked, "Yeah, her son's here, right? Edward or something. She's been calling nonstop ever since he got here." Joanne held her breath, trying to hold her anger down.

"And you didn't think to tell me?"she asked slowly, her voice dangerously low.

"We didn't know who was working with him!"she answered defensively, "We've never needed to know any of that stuff - nobody's ever bothered to call for their kids!" It was true. Most of the patients here were adults, with a long, complicated history of craziness and an even longer history of repeated failures to keep them under control. By the time they ended up here, their family and friends were usually past needing updates, knowing full well there was no hope for them. Even the occasional supervised visit was worked out only with security staff - the analysts had very little say in what went on outside of the patient's immediate vicinity.

"Okay, okay,"Joanne said with a sigh, "Just get her on the phone, please."

* * *

><p>Meredith had her hand on the phone, about to call the institute for the seventh time that day, when it started ringing on its own. She stared at it for a moment, too surprised to pick it up at first.<p>

"Hello?"she said unsurely into the receiver.

"Is this Mrs. Parker, Edgar's mother?" Meredith could barely breathe, unable to believe her luck.

"Y-yes,"she managed to get out.

"My name is Joanne Nielson. I work as an analyst at the institute where Edgar is right now,"the voice on the other line said. Meredith felt her breath catch in her throat.

"Oh my goodness, is he okay?"

"Are you alone right now?"she asked. There was a pause as Meredith quickly made a run around the house, checking all the other phone lines to make sure Shelley wasn't eavesdropping. Sure enough, a few seconds later Joanne heard her shouting in the background, "Shelley! What are you doing? Get off the phone!"

When she came back on the phone, Joanne had to stiffle a laugh. "I'm so sorry,"Meredith hurredly apologized, "My daughter's been worried sick about him."

"I understand,"she said, smiling through the phone, "Mrs. Parker, I understand that you have been poorly informed of Edgar's status in the last few days."

"They never really tell me much when I call,"she explained a little breathlessly.

"I know, and I apologize for that. There was a bit of a miscommunication. I'd like to fill you in now, if you have the time. Something just happened that I think you should know about." There was a moment of silence over the phone where Meredith slowly sat down on the living room couch, pressing the phone hard against her ear to hear every word.

"What is it?"she asked slowly, fearfully, "What happened?"

"I'm afraid Edgar recently tried to kill himself. He's okay now - he's resting in the medical ward. Unfortunately, this wasn't his first attempt...He tried biting himself once on the way here as well. He was stopped both times before he could do any serious damage to himself." Meredith closed her eyes, burying her face in her hands. She didn't want to hear this.

"I don't know what to say,"she confided after a moment of silence, "I knew he would be upset, but I never thought it would come to this. I don't know how to help him."

"Do you want to help him?"

"Of course I do!"she exclaimed immediately.

"I couldn't be sure. Edgar hasn't spoken much since he came here, and I've had to draw some conclusions on my own. He definitely needs help, although it's apparent he doesn't trust people easily." Meredith swallowed hard.

"I'm afraid he doesn't trust me either, now,"she confided, "I've already done so much damage to him, I don't know how to help him without making it worse."

"What about your daughter?"

"Yes, I...I think he'd be more willing to talk to her,"she said, looking saddened by the thought that she no longer qualified as someone Edgar could trust. Meredith began pacing the room, trying to bring herself to accept the fact that the son she had hoped could save their broken family was in the worst shape of all of them.

"Would she be allowed to visit him?"Meredith asked slowly.

"With my security clearance, yes,"she answered, "That's a big 'if,' though. Would he be safe visiting her?"

"Of course,"Meredith said without hesitation.

"Is there anyone he wouldn't be safe visiting?" Meredith thought a moment.

"I think it would be best to only allow myself and Shelley to see him,"she said, "For his protection. He didn't exactly leave behind a fan club."

"I understand,"Joanne said, "If you don't mind, would you tell me exactly what happened preceding Edgar coming here?" Meredith agreed and proceeded to repeat the same story Edgar had told, without leaving out a single detail. There were moments when Joanne had to prompt the secretary behind the counter to hand her a pen and paper to write something down. Other than a few minor discrepancies, Edgar's story matched up, albeit told a little more positively through his mother.

"Thank you so much for your time. I'll give you a call if he is allowed to have visitors. We still have to evaluate the situation, so I can't make any promises."

"Thank you,"she said, "Right now any hope of seeing him again is good news. Shelley's been completely heartsick over this, so any updates are appreciated."

"Do you mind if I speak with her for a moment?"Joanne asked, sensing the unease and hesitation Meredith was surely feeling as she continued, "I promise I won't mention his most recent update."

"Yes, hold on." There was pause as Meredith put down the phone and called Shelley into the room. Shelley appeared at the top of the staircase, looking a little tense.

"What?"she heard Shelley ask. Meredith quickly put a finger to her lips and beckoned her daughter to come down. Shelley obeyed, suddenly noticing the phone lying upside down on the table instead of in its socket.

"Someone from the institute. She wants to talk to you,"Meredith explained quietly, handing the phone to her. Confused, Shelley hesitantly accepted the phone and put it to her ear.

"Hello?"

"Hello Ms. Parker. Is it okay if I call you Shelley?"

"Yeah, sure,"she answered quickly, seating herself on the arm of the couch. Meredith hovered over her, closely watching her daughter's reaction to what she was saying.

"I work as an analyst at the institute where Edgar is. I just wanted to tell you personally that he's okay. And that he loves you very much."

"...He said that?"she asked softly. She couldn't help the faint fluttering in her heart.

"Yes he did."

"Is he...okay?"she asked slowly, fearfully.

"He's fine."

"No, I mean is he...really okay?" Joanne held back a sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"He's going through a lot. He's been in confinement for a week and he obviously has a lot to deal with."

"But he's not being hurt, right?"she asked, worried.

"No, no, of course not. We just need to keep him under our supervision for a while. At least until we can prove he's not dangerous."

"But he's not dangerous! He's not dangerous at all! He would never want to hurt anyone-he's the sweetest, kindest, most gentle, loving"-

"Shelley, calm down,"Joanne interrupted, smiling at the sound of Shelley's immediate defensiveness, "I'm afraid it's not a matter of character. Even he recognizes that he's not completely safe to be around. Until we know that his behavior can be controlled, he has to stay where nobody can be at risk of being harmed."

"He wouldn't harm anybody, though!"she insisted, "Whatever he told you - he only did it to protect me. He's not dangerous at all, he"-

"It's alright, I understand,"she interrupted. Shelley felt tears of indignation stinging at her eyes knowing that she didn't believe her, but she didn't let her mother see them.

"Will you give him a message for me?"

"Sure."

"Will you tell him that I love him?"

"...Alright,"she said with a smile, "If he gets a security clearance, you can tell him yourself, too."

"...Thanks,"she answered, looking sad.

"I'll call you if something changes,"she continued, "Goodbye." Shelley hadn't opened her mouth before the line went dead.

"Bye..."

* * *

><p>AN: I'm going to see Bat Boy live on Valentine's Day and I'm racing to cram in as much fanartfanfiction as I possibly can before that time because I'm slightly afraid this phase is going to exhaust itself out by then. For the sake of this story, let's hope it's the best performance I've ever seen and I will leave the theater thinking, "WOW I'M SO INSPIRED NOW LET'S WRITE MORE FANFICTION." :P


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